Addicted to You
by DeanWinchesterPercyJackson
Summary: Sequel to Forced Love. After losing Dick, Slade decides the best way to get him back, is to win his heart the way anyone else would, rather than just brainwashing him. But that's not the only complication. Roy Harper is also trying to win Dick over again, and only Dick can make the final choice. Will he choose Roy or Slade? Or will Dick become an almost exact copy of Bruce.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Dick groaned, slumping further into his couch, when his comm started lighting up from where it was sitting next to his feet on his coffee table.

"I literally _just_ sat down," he complained, running his hands over his face, as he removed his belt and gun, without getting up. "What could they _possibly_ need from me?" he cleared his throat, and shook his head. "No, that's right. They don't need Richard Grayson. No, the only reason _any_ of them contact me is because they need Nightwing. Not Dick. Not anymore."

Dick sighed, "Sometimes I wonder why I wanted to be a police officer in Bludhaven of all places."

Taking a deep breath, and bracing himself for whatever the League could want from him, Dick picked up his comm, placed it in his ear, and answered it.

"Grayson," he said simply, trying not to make it sound like he was available, but at the same time, not trying to sound rude, just in case it was Tim contacting him.

"Nightwing," Batman's gruff voice came over the connection, and Dick immediately wanted nothing to do with whatever Bruce wanted.

"Yeah Bats?" he asked respectfully.

"The team is requesting your presence and assistance on their mission."

"Which is?" Dick prompted. There was a slight amount of anger lacing his tone, and Dick hoped Bruce hadn't noticed.

"They're going to _covertly_ ," he put emphasis on the word 'covertly', "investigate Queen Bee in Bialya, and they want your help."

Dick was silent for a few seconds as he debated the pros and cons. FInally, he spoke, keeping his tone simple.

"Who's going?"

"Red Hood, Robin, and your old team. It's a week long mission."

"That's a lot of people," Dick commented, finally forcing himself to get off the couch, and move to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. "A lot of people with a lot of experience. I don't exactly understand why you need my help."

Bruce gave a loud huff across the line, and Dick could tell he was annoyed. It took everything the twenty-three year old had not to break down laughing.

"You're the best hacker we have, and they asked for you by name," Bruce explained. "When you left for Bludhaven two years ago you said that you'd help us as Nightwing whenever we needed you, and yet every time we've asked, you've turned us down."

"I've been busy," Dick stated.

"That's a lie, and you and I both know it," Bruce said, calling him out on it. Dick sighed.

"Look, Bruce-"

"No name's," he interrupted. "Anyone could be listening."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Alright then, _Batman_. Maybe if you gave me a reason to work with everyone then I wouldn't keep turning you down."

"You have a duty-"

"You were suffocating!" Dick shouted, cutting him off. "Constantly checking on me, asking if I was okay. I barely had a _minute_ to myself! And every _single_ one of you looked at me like I might break at the slightest insult!" His voice got dark, and more menacing as he went on, and Batman was reminded of how Jason had reacted when he'd left home as well. Only his anger had ended in the deaths of hundreds of innocents. But they'd only been shot. They hadn't suffered. Dick's anger would be so much worse.

"I will not work with people who refuse to treat me as an equal. Make the team swear they'll treat me like they did _before_ my coma, and maybe, _maybe,_ I'll help. But I will not make you any promises, especially when I know I can't keep them. Unlike you."

Before Bruce had a chance to say anything, Dick pulled the comm out of his ear, and ended the conversation, before throwing the earpiece across the room as hard as he could. He took a few shuddering breaths, before turning back to his coffee, and taking a sup of the burning liquid, not even flinching when it scorched his throat.

He was too numb.

* * *

Bruce sighed, and calmly removed his own earpiece.

"What did Dick say?" Tim asked. Bruce waited a beat before turning around to face the team.

"He's unavailable at the moment, but he wishes you luck." he lied, not wanting to break the truth to his youngest.

"Man," Wally huffed, as he followed everyone to the bioship. "I was hoping to talk with him."

"I miss him," Tim said quietly, and that drew everyone's attention. "He keeps saying he's busy, but he always has time to return my calls."

"Maybe he just makes time," Kaldur suggested, as they got on their way to Bialya. "You are his brother after all."

"I know," Tim said. "I just...I'm worried about him, you know? Those memories of Slade are going to come back sooner or later, and when they do, he's going to find out we lied to him about being in a coma."

"So he'll be a little upset," Jason said, as he covered his eyes with his domino mask. "He'll get over it. You know how he is."

"Have you ever seen him angry, Jason?" Tim asked. Jason frowned at his replacement.

"Yeah," he said slowly. "He gives everyone the silent treatment."

"That's his silent anger," Tim explained. "His silent anger usually leads to his loud anger if he's not calmed down in time."

"Loud anger?" M'gann questioned. Tim gave her a pitying look.

"If you've never seen his loud anger...you're lucky."

"What?" Wally asked, laughter in his voice. "Does he just shout some curse words, and throw some batarangs around?"

"He almost killed the Joker," Tim said seriously. "And by 'almost' I mean the man needed five blood transfusions, and was in a full body cast for six months, and a coma for ten months, _and_ not to mention Batman had to take Nightwing down with two tranquilizers. He was pretty pissed when he woke up too, and almost beat Batman into unconsciousness. God, I've never seen that much blood in the batcave."

"Wait, Nightwing did all that?" Wally asked, shock in his voice. "There's no way."

"Why do you think Bruce refuses to tell Dick _anything_ about Tony Zucco? Dick practically sees red whenever he hears the man's name, and I've seen him break the skin on his knuckles of _both_ hands from hitting the punching bag, and pretending it's Zucco."

"But...the punching bag would have come off its chain, correct?" M'gann asked. Tim shook his head.

"When Dick's in one of those moods, he uses Superman's punching bag, and even then I've seen him knock that one off its chain too."

The bioship went silent at the realization that Nightwing's anger strength was almost as strong as a kryptonians normal strength. No one said anything after that.

About half an hour later, M'gann spoke up in a soft voice.

"We're approaching Bialya,"

Less than two minutes after she said it, Robin's comm went off. He sent everyone weary glances, as he answered, and Superboy listened in.

"Hello?" Robin asked. There was a snicker from the other end.

" _When is your team getting here? I've been waiting for almost an hour."_

"Wing?" Robin asked in shock, quickly connecting his comm to the bioship speaker **(1)** so everyone else could hear. "I thought you weren't coming."

Nightwing sighed. " _I wasn't going to,"_ he admitted. " _But I haven't seen you guys in awhile, so I thought I'd pitch in. Besides, work was slow last night and I kinda need to jump around if you know what I mean. ADHD and all that."_

"You don't _have_ ADHD," Robin pointed out. Nightwing snorted.

" _No, but I don't like staying still for too long. You know that."_

"It's a wonder he hasn't been killed yet," Jason muttered.

" _Aw come on Hood,"_ Nightwing said, a grin in his voice. "Lighten up, would you? And if you're so desperate to see me dead, why don't you just shoot me?"

Everyone froze, and stared at one another in silent horror, as they recalled two years before, when Jason _had_ shot Dick. As far as they knew, however, Nightwing had no memory of that time. When no one said anything, Nightwing spoke up.

"Guys?" he asked. "It was just a joke. No need to get all serious on me."

Everyone laughed uneasily, and Robin could all but see his brother rolling his eyes.

"ETA five minutes," M'gann said. She heard Nightwing sigh.

"Thank God," he said, laughing slightly. "I think I'm getting dehydrated waiting for you out here. Contact me when you land, and I'll find you."

"Got it," Tim agreed. "Robin out."

"Do you think he remembers?" Jason asked as soon as Robin had cut the connection. "That I...shot him?"

Robin sighed. "I don't know. He said it was a joke, but he always jokes when he's uncomfortable...I really hope he doesn't remember."

"We all do," Aqualad said, placing a hand on Robin's shoulder. "However, while we're with him today, we need to make sure we treat him the way we always have. We don't want him getting suspicious."

"Because that wouldn't end well for anyone," Robin mumbled.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the sequel. I certainly enjoyed writing it. So what do you think? Does Dick remember, or was he really just making a joke?**

 **Leave your answers, or any questions you have, as a review, and I'll contact you as soon as I can.**

 **ALSO, I cannot thank Nightcrawler509 ENOUGH for helping me plan out this sequel! PLEASE go check out their work, because I have, and it's amazing!**

 **Until next time!**

 **DWPJ**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys! So, I realized my summary was too long, so you can't see the entire thing. So I'm going to paste it here.**

 **Sequel to Forced Love. After losing Dick, Slade decides the best way to get him back, is to win his heart the way anyone else would, rather than just brainwashing him. But that's not the only complication. Roy Harper is also trying to win Dick over again, and only Dick can make the final choice. Will he choose Roy or Slade? Or will Dick become an almost exact copy of Bruce, and choose to be alone for the rest of his life? To top it all off, Tony Zucco comes back into Gotham, intent on bringing about the fall to the last of the Flying Graysons, no matter what the cost, or how much blood is shed.**

 **Chapter 2**

"So...where's Nightwing?" Kid Flash asked, after the team had been waiting for their ex-leader for almost thirty minutes. Robin shook his head.

"I don't know, but I'm worried," he admitted. "He said it would only take him eight minutes to get here, but it's been half an hour."

"And you were farther away from me than I anticipated," Nightwing answered, as he walked calmly into their campsite. "I'm also on foot, so give me a break."

"Nightwing," Jason said calmly. "How are you?"

"On edge," Nightwing responded. "I don't like Bialya, and I don't want to be here any longer than I have to."

"You know this is a week long mission, right?" Kid Flash asked. Nightwing nodded.

"I do, but I have a job. I'll stay the night tonight, and come back on the last day. Also, Red Hood?"

"Yeah?" Red Hood looked up from his gun. Nightwing narrowed his eyes.

"Nothing," he answered after a second. "It's nothing."

Everyone knew he was lying. In an effort to change the subject, Robin spoke up.

"So, how have you been? How's Bludhaven?"

"Hell," Nightwing answered simply. "But on the plus side, there's no Joker. And I haven't seen Slade Wilson in months, though that kind of worries me."

"Why?" Robin asked, before wishing he hadn't opened his mouth. Nightwing shook his head.

"Back in Jump City…" he hesitated, and everyone understood. He didn't like talking about what had happened to him in Jump. After a few seconds, he shook his head. "The point is, you never go this long without seeing him, or hearing from him. If he's silent, it's because he's planning something."

Robin bit his lip, nodding. Before he could say anything however, Red Hood spoke up.

"How'd you get here?" he voiced the question everyone had on their mind. Nightwing chuckled.

"Magic," he answered simply. Kid Flash groaned.

"Dude, we've been over this. Magic. Doesn't. Exist."

Nightwing smirked. "You know what fascinates me about you, KF? It's that you've met Dr. Fate, and Klarion, two wielders of magic, and yet...you deny that magic exists."

Kid Flash opened his mouth to defend himself, but rather than say anything, he threw up his hands, and stalked off. Nightwing rolled his eyes.

"Alright, so who's team leader?"

"I am," Aqualad answered. Nightwing nodded.

"Well then, team leader, what's the plan?"

"Our objective for tonight is to lay low and not get caught. Tomorrow is when we begin keeping our eyes open for Queen Bee."

Nightwing nodded again. "Good objective," he praised. "Just be careful, especially you Miss Martian."

Miss Martian frowned. "What do you mean?" she asked. Nightwing shook his head.

"Queen Bee rarely ever works without Psimon at her side. He'll be able to sense you, even if you're in camouflage mode."

Miss Martian nodded. "Okay. I understand."

"And trust me, you don't want him breaking your mental barriers."

"Has he broken yours?" Red Hood asked. As far as they all knew, the only time Psimon had broken Nightwing's mental barriers was when he brainwashed him. And for all they all knew, Nightwing didn't remember. Nightwing furrowed his eyebrows, and dropped his gaze to the ground.

"I...don't know," he muttered. "I thought he did but...I don't remember."

The small group was quiet, before Nightwing shuddered.

"Forget about it," he ordered, shaking his head. "It's fine."

"Wing, you don't just forget something like that," Red Hood prompted, ignoring the warning stares from everyone else. Nightwing narrowed his eyes.

"Are you implying I'm forgetting something?" he asked. Red Hood stood his ground for a few seconds, before sighing, and shaking his head.

"No," he answered. Nightwing nodded, before looking over towards Aqualad.

"Is this where we're setting up camp?"

Aqualad gave a simple nod. "Yes. Which means we should begin setting up now."

"Alright, I'll help," Nightwing said. Robin made sure no one was watching, to sneak off into a nearby dense of trees.

" _Batman,"_ the man's gruff voice came across Robin's earpiece a second after being contacted.

"Batman," Robin said softly, checking to make sure Nightwing wasn't nearby. "It's Robin."

Batman growled lightly. " _Robin, this had better be important."_

"It is," Robin promised. "Nightwing's here-"

" _Nightwing came?"_ Batman demanded.

"Yes, sir," Robin confirmed. "Anyway, we've already had a few close calls regarding the four years he was with Slade-"

" _Watch your words,"_ Batman ordered. " _You know how Nightwing is. Just because you can't see him, doesn't mean he isn't watching."_

"I'm looking at him right now," Robin explained, watching Nightwing help set the tents up. He turned his back on his teammates, as he continued speaking with Batman. "He can't hear me."

" _Just be careful. Now, what were you saying about close calls?"_

"We've slipped up once or twice. Never completely said but...at one point...he talked about having his mental barriers broken by Psimon...but then he couldn't remember what he was talking about."

" _Has he shown any sign that he suspects anything?"_

"Once," Robin answered. "I think. Do you think...if Psimon is here in Bialya, do you think Slade is too?"

" _There's a chance,"_ Batman mused. " _If someone listened in on my conversation with Wing earlier...Slade could have listened."_

"I really don't want Slade capturing my brother again," Robin said softly. "We won't let anything happen to him. I promise."

" _Good,_ " Batman huffed. " _Now get back to camp. You don't want him getting suspicious. Batman out."_

Robin nodded, and put his comm away, sprinting back to camp.

High up in the trees, out of Robin's view, Nightwing narrowed his eyes.

"They lied to me," he said softly. "The question is...about what, and how does it relate to Wilson?"

Nightwing remained crouched in his position for another moment, before leaping down, and returning to camp.

* * *

A man in a hood watched Nightwing return to camp in silence. The man smirked.

"Looks like it's time Psimon returned your memories," he muttered, before vanishing into the shadows.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will start with a conversation between Robin and Nightwing.**

 **Anyway, please please please review, and let me know what you think.**

 **THANKS!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Robin," Nightwing said softly, dropping down next to his brother. The younger boy flinched, before glancing up at his predecessor.

"Hey Nightwing," he said, trying for a casual tone. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Nightwing answered simply. "Just thought I'd keep watch with you."

"Couldn't sleep?" Robin guessed. Nightwing laughed.

"That's part of it, yes. The other part...my mind's just kind of a mess right now. I can't fall asleep."

"Oh," Robin said softly. The two were quiet, until Nightwing spoke, his eyes locked on the fire in front of them.

"Where were you while we were setting up camp?" his tone was innocent, but Robin could tell there was an underlying motive to the question. "You kinda disappeared for a little."

"I had to let Batman know we made it," Robin lied. The camp was silent.

"Bullshit," Nightwing muttered under his breath. Robin was taken aback by the word, despite how often he had heard his brother say it before.

"I...I'm sorry?" Robin asked, looking over at his brother. Even with the mask on, Robin could tell Nightwing's expression was dark, and the way the fire cast shadows on his face, made the hero of Bludhaven look capable of murder.

"I'm calling your bullshit," Nightwing repeated, not looking at Robin. "You called Batman to talk about me, am I correct?"

"Well-"

"You've all been lying about what happened to me when I was eighteen. Don't deny, because I know it's true. I wasn't in a coma for four years, was I?"

"Nightwing-" Robin began, only to be cut off by the older man.

"Tread carefully here, replacement," Nightwing said darkly, using the name Red Hood always called Robin. "If I think you're lying to me, I'm leaving. And I'm not coming back. So tell me the truth."

Robin's stomach was in knots. He had two choices. Either tell Nightwing the truth, and destroy the man forever, or lie to him, and lose the only brother who had ever believed in him, just to protect him. With a shuddering breath, Robin made his choice.

"You were in a coma for four years," he struggled to hold back tears. "That's the truth."

Nightwing nodded, and was silent for a few seconds, before standing, and walking away.

"Bullshit," Nightwing whispered, before disappearing into the night. Robin stared after him for a few seconds, before dropping his face into his hands.

* * *

"Replacement, where's Nightwing?" Red Hood demanded the next morning. Robin looked away, as the team waited for hs answer. With a shuddering breath, Robin answered.

"He left."

"Why?" Red Hood asked, trying to stay calm.

"He asked me if he hadn't been in a coma for four years. He said...he said...I lied. I told him he had been in a coma for four years. And he left. He's not going to come back. He's done with us."

"It's for the best," Aqualad said gently. "Knowing the truth...I have worked with Nightwing since he was thirteen years old. Knowing the truth would have hurt him, more than anything else. You made the right choice."

"Then why do I feel so guilty?" Robin asked himself.

* * *

"I'm coming!" Dick screamed, as the person at his door continued to pound their fist against the wood. Ever since Dick had returned from Bialya, he'd been in a sour mood to say the least. He'd ignored every single one of Bruce's phone calls, and he knew sooner or later the man was going to show up.

With a forced sigh, Dick schooled his features into one of fake calm, as he opened the door. The man in front of him was not who he expected.

"Roy?" Dick asked in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to talk," Roy answered simply, entering the apartment, and closing the door behind himself. "Bruce said you weren't answering his calls, and he was worried about you."

"Yeah, well, he shouldn't be," Dick huffed, dropping himself down on the couch next to his ex. "I'm fine."

"Then why is your face red?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow. "And why were you ignoring Bruce's calls?"

"I'm just-" Dick sighed, frustration preventing him from voicing his thoughts. "I'm just angry. The team...they're acting weird, again. And what's worse are my dreams, and thoughts…"

"What do you mean?" Roy prompted gently, when it looked like Dick wasn't going to go on. Dick sighed.

"At first...my dreams weren't clear, and my mind was a mess. But lately...they've both been getting...clearer. I'm starting to remember bits and pieces of my dreams...and Roy? It's scaring me."

"What's happening in your dreams?" Roy asked, moving subtly closer to Dick. Dick shook his head

"I don't know," he whispered. "I just...when I wake up, I feel so violated. Like...something happened to me, but I can't remember. I feel like I did after my encounter with the Joker, when he…"

"Almost touched you," Roy supplied. Dick nodded, tears in his eyes. Before Roy could say, or do anything else, Dick buried his face in the red head's shirt. Even at twenty-three, though he hated to admit it, he was still just as emotional as he had been when he was eight.

"Sorry," Dick said softly, sitting up, and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Roy shook his head, keeping his arm around Dick's shoulders.

"No, it's okay," he promised. "Trust me...I've seen worse."

Dick nodded, and licked his lips. "It's just...I feel like they're all lying to me, you know? But...maybe I'm just in the wrong."

"No, you're right," Roy said softly, and Dick looked at him in confusion. "They're lying to you under Batman's orders."

"So...I wasn't in a coma for four years?" Dick asked in confusion. Roy shook his head.

"No. You were kidnapped."

"By who?" Dick questioned, narrowing his eyes. Roy bit his lip, before going on.

"You were kidnapped by-"

* * *

"Nightwing was joking when he said he got here by magic, right?" Kid Flash asked, as they trekked through the desert. Artemis snorted.

"I thought you didn't believe in magic, Baywatch."

"Well I don't," KF protested. "But...I can usually tell when he's joking. And I couldn't' just then."

"Believe it or not, Nightwing's had one too many run ins with the Joker," Robin explained dully. "It's kinda killed his sense of humor. The only reason he still makes jokes around us-"

"Is to make us think nothing's wrong," Miss Martian concluded. Robin nodded, and the group was silent, until he spoke in a low, sorrow filled voice.

"My belt feels heavier."

Everyone froze, and turned to look at the young hero.

"What do you mean?" Superboy asked, worry for his boyfriend clouding his mind. Robin took a shuddering breath.

"It was gift," he explained. "When Batman agreed to let me be Robin...Nightwing gave it to me. It was his. And then I lied to his face...I feel like I let him down. Like I...betrayed him."

"You didn't betray him, my friend," Aqualad promised, placing a hand on the birds shoulder. "You did what you had to do, to protect him."

"Are you sure?" Robin asked uncertainly. He was met with smiles from everyone, except for Red Hood, who's face was covered with his mask. Even if it wasn't, he probably wouldn't have been smiling at his replacement anyway.

"Of course," KF said cheerfully. "Now, back to the important matters. Did he use magic to get here, or not?"

Everyone groaned.

* * *

Dick stared silently at Roy, after the redhead had finished his explanation. After a few seconds, Dick spoke.

"That's what happened?" he asked softly. Roy nodded. Dick licked his lips. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told Tim."

"Which is?" Roy asked, frowning. Dick anrrowed his eyes.

"Bullshit," he hissed. "Get out."

"Dick-" Roy began, only to be cut off by the angry acrobat in front of him.

"Get out, or I'll have a living person to test my kryptonite gun on. Believe me Roy, I am staring at the line between right and wrong, and I am close to making the same choice, the same mistake, that Jason did. So get. Out."

Roy hesitated for just a second, before nodding, and walking away, closing the apartment door behind him. Dick stood silently in his living room, before turning his back. A second later, he heard the front door open again.

"Roy, I said-"

Dick cut himself, eyes going wide in horror, as he took in the person before him.

"Hello Richard."

"Slade," Dick breathed.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW, AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK, AND WHAT YOU THINK IS GOING TO HAPPEN!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Slade took a step forward, only to be stopped, by Dick pulled out his escrima sticks.

"Don't move," he ordered darkly. Slade nodded, and remained where he was.

"How are you?" Slade asked casually.

"What the Hell do you want?" Dick asked, ignoring Slade's question. Slade shrugged.

"Just to talk," he answered. Dick sneered.

"Bullshit," he whispered. He glanced around, as he continued talking. "If you're here to try and turn me into your apprentice, I'm sorry to say, you're going to have to kill me first."

"I don't want to kill you, and I don't want you as my apprentice," Slade said softly. "Have you interacted with Psimon lately?"

"What the Hell are you playing at?" Dick demanded. His heart had started pounding after a few seconds, and something in the back of his mind begged to be remembered.

"You don't remember," Slade whispered. Dick narrowed his eyes.

"Remember what?"

Slade shook his head. "It's too early," he said by way of explanation. "I can't tell you. Not yet."

Before Dick could say or do anything, Slade pulled out a tranquilizer gun, and aimed it at Dick, firing the sedative, and hitting the boy in the neck. Dick groaned, as his body went numb, and he collapsed to the floor.

The last thing he saw, was Slade, walking towards him.

* * *

Dick moaned softly, as consciousness finally returned, though just barely.

With a shuddering breath, Dick forced his eyes open, and forced himself to sit up, all at once, fighting past the sedative. He stared around him, expecting to find himself chained in a cell, and Slade nearby. He was surprised, however, to find himself-

"In my...room?" Dick muttered. He looked down at what he was wearing to find himself in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Something he most definitely had _not_ been wearing when Slade came in. He continued analyzing the room, until he found his escrima sticks sitting on the bedside table, a small note beside them.

With a shaking hand, Dick grabbed the piece of paper. On it were four simple words, with a heavy meaning.

' _See you in Bialya. SW'_

Dick shook his head, before tossing the note in the trashcan beside his bed, and pulling himself to his feet, stumbling over to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, and wake himself up.

"What the Hell did he do to me?" Dick muttered, his words slurring. He vaguely heard the doorbell ringing, but the tranquilizer that he'd been drugged with was still coursing through his veins, and so he couldn't seem to convince his feet to move.

Distantly, Dick thought he heard someone call his name, but he was too tired to call back.

He gasped, as his legs gave out from under him. However, he collapsed into someone's warm embrace, rather than the cold, hard floor.

"Dick, can you hear me?"

It was Bruce's voice, that much was obvious, but something was choking Dick, as he couldn't force his voice to work. He felt the person shift, so that Dick's body was pressed against the person's chest, and his head rested on their collarbone.

"Dick, I need you to open your eyes."

Dick took a shuddering breath, before forcing his eyes to open. His vision remained blurry for a few seconds, before he was finally able to make out the face of Bruce Wayne.

"B'ce?" Dick's words were slurred, but Bruce seemed to know what he was trying to say.

"Dick, what happened?" Bruce ordered softly. "I thought you were in Bialya."

"W's...dr'gged," Dick slurred, eyes sliding closed yet again. Only the harsh shake from Bruce a second later sent them flying open again.

"Dick, I need you to focus," Bruce demanded, all softness gone from his voice. "What were you given?"

D'nt kn'w," Dick answered. He could feel exhaustion pulling him back down, and he knew another harsh shake from Bruce wasn't going to be enough. Sure as the sun rises, the older man shook the acrobat again, but Dick's eyes remained barely open/

"Dick, hang on," Bruce said softly. "I'm getting you help."

Dick groaned, when he felt Bruce snake his arm under Dick's legs, and lift the none too thin boy into his arms. Dick's head lolled back on Bruce's arm, until Gotham's Dark Knight readjusted so that Dick's head was resting on his chest yet again.

The last thing Dick heard was the slamming of a car door, and Bruce speaking gently to him, before he lost consciousness.

* * *

When Dick woke up again, he was in the medbay of the Batcave. Bruce was sitting over at his computer, furiously typing away at the keyboard.

Dick made to move, but every muscle in his body screamed at him and Holy _shit_ that hurt.

Dick bit his tongue, and forced himself to sit up. His jaw locked with the pain, and for a second, he thought he was going to pass out again.

Once he'd gotten his breathing under control, and he'd more or less gotten past the pain, Dick forced himself from the bed, and stumbled over to Bruce's side, just barely catching himself on the edge of Bruce's desk, when his legs gave out from beneath him.

"Dick!" Bruce cried in shock, standing, and helping his oldest into the chair he'd just vacated. "What on Earth are you doing?"

"I wanted to know what you were looking at," Dick answered, thankful his words were much clearer than before. If he was remembering correctly. His head kinda hurt, so he wasn't really sure what had happened.

He glanced up at the batcomputer, only to be met with a blank screen, as Bruce had cleared the image before Dick could see it. The raven haired boy pouted slightly, when he once again got the feeling that everyone was hiding something from him. Something big.

"You could have called my name," Bruce chastised, pulling up another chair, and sitting next to his foster son. "I would have helped you. You could have hurt yourself."

"But I didn't," Dick pointed out with a grin. His smile dropped instantly, and he looked around, as he remembered Slade's none too subtle threat.

 _See you in Bialya._

"Bruce, what time is it?!" Dick cried fearfully, grabbing the older man by the collar of his shirt. Bruce was taken aback for a second, before regaining his composure.

"It's almost five in the afternoon," he explained. At Dick's look of confusion, he explained. "You've been out for six days. Whatever you were given...the person didn't want you interfering with anything. Who were they? Do you remember?"

"Slade," Dick whispered, dropping his head into his hands. "It was Slade."

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Bruce lock his jaw as a look of rage flashed through his eyes, but rather than ask why, Dick shakily got to his feet.

"Dick, what are you doing?" Bruce asked, following the stumbling boy over to the zeta tubes where he began putting in coordinates.

"I have to help the team," Dick explained, even though he knew Bruce would have no idea what he was talking about.

"You've been out of commision for almost a week," Bruce reiterated. Dick ignored him. "Richard, did you not hear what I just-"

"Yes! I heard you!" Dick shouted, pivoting on his heels to face his father. The abrupt movement nearly ended in a faceplant on the floor. "I heard the first time, and the second time, and I don't _care_. Slade blatantly threatened the team, and they don't know it."

"I can tell Superman-"

"No, you can't," Dick said firmly. "By the time he gets there, it'll be too late."

"Richard, this could be a trap-"

"Do I look like I give a _damn_ if this is a trap!?" Dick screamed, his face going red. "My brothers need me."

"Dick," Bruce tried a different tactic, trying to speak gently. "Please, listen to me. Whatever Slade gave you is still in your system, and as you just showed me, you're not steady on your feet. Please just stay here, and I'll contact Tim to let him know."

Dick was silent, blue eyes downcast, before he got his nerve, and turned his steel gaze to his foster father.

"You know what, Bruce? Fuck off."

Then, without another word, Dick turned, and vanished into the zeta tube.

 _Recognized. Nightwing. B01._

Bruce sighed. "He's too much like Jason," he muttered. "And sooner or later, it's going to get him killed."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed! So sorry I didn't update sooner, but I ended up in ER around eight this morning, and didn't have a chance to write, until I got settled into my room, and my mom went home to get my laptop.**

 **However, a change of surroundings never stopped any writer, right?**

 **Anyway, please review, and let me know what you think.**

 **Is Dick really like Jason, or is he just a little bit worse?**

 **Let me know**

 **BYE**


	5. Chapter 5

**Her hand is cramped, but she's still writing**

 **:P**

 **Or is it swollen? I can never tell. It looks swollen.**

 ***Shrugs* Oh well**

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

"Is everything alright, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked gently, to find Bruce sitting in front of the Batcomputer, with his head on the desk. Bruce sighed, but remained silent for a few more seconds.

"No, Alfred. Nothing is okay. Slade drugged Dick with some ulterior motive in mind, and then he blatantly threatened the team, because he _knew_ Dick would go running blindly into Bialya."

"I see he's still kicking then," Alfred muttered, trying to crack a smile from Bruce. It didn't work.

"Alfred, he's not steady on his feet," Bruce said quietly. "He made it over to the desk before he collapsed."

"Well, aside from the fact that he is rushing into the field unprepared, should we not be thankful he's recovering?"

"Alfred, no one recovers that quickly from a drug that knocks them unconscious for six days."

"Are you implying something in, as Master Richard and Master Timothy often call it, 'Bat-speak', Master Bruce?"

Bruce chuckled quietly, before getting to his feet.

"The only reason anyone jumps back that quickly, is if they've been exposed to the drug more often than they should ever be. I'm worried about him, Alfred."

"And I assume you're going to follow him?" Alfred guessed, as Bruce began to pull on his uniform.

"Someone has to. If he could barely walk to the desk, he can't make it to Bialya."

"He's under the impression that he can make it to Bialya in his state?" Alfred asked, slight worry in his tone. Bruce nodded.

"Yes, because I couldn't get it through his thick skull that he wasn't okay."

Alfred hummed. "Oh no Master Bruce, it's not like I've ever been down this same road before with a certain 'Batman'?"

Bruce froze, as he was just clasping his belt. He shot Alfred a look, but the british butler remained as poised as ever.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Bruce, now Batman, said gruffly, as he made his way to his batcopter.

"Is there anything I should prepare for your return?" Alfred asked.

"The medbay," Batman responded darkly. "And I'm keeping Dick there, even if I have to tie him down."

"Have you forgotten the title you gave him as a child?" Alfred asked. "I believe you called him 'The Little Escape Artist'?"

"One way or another I'll keep him there," Batman muttered, as he took off, after Nightwing.

* * *

"It's quiet," Robin muttered, crouching down, and grabbing a fistful of sand in his hands, letting it drain out between his fingers.

"Too quiet," Kid Flash said, kneeling down next to Robin, only to get punched in the arm.

"I'm not Nightwing," Robin said darkly. "Yes, haha, it's a very superhero, buddy-cop movie thing to say, but this is real life. And yes, if Nightwing were here, he would have made the joke. But he's not, so I won't."

Kid Flash nodded mutely. Robin sighed, and looked back at Aqualad.

"I don't like this," he muttered, scanning the area. The only thing around them for miles, was nothing but sand. Aqualad nodded. "Agreed. Should we prepare for a fight?"

Robin pulled his batarangs out of his belt, as he nodded.

"Always be prepare for a fight, young ones."

The team whipped around, to stare in horror at the man who'd snuck up behind them.

"Psimon," Robin growled. The telepath smirked.

"I see you're all here," he said calmly, looking around. "Except for the little bird that I was so desperately hoping to speak to," he turned his piercing eyes back to Robin. "Where he is?"

Before anyone could say anything, a sudden escrima stick came flying from the forest they had just come from, and went clear over Psimon's head. The telepath chuckled.

"That was sloppy, even for you, Nightwing."

The team turned, and stared in shock as Nightwing walked into the clearing. Despite that fact that he looked fine, Robin could tell something was off. Nightwing narrowed his eyes, and held up the other half of his escrima stick, and flipped the electricity on.

"You want me?" Nightwing asked darkly. "Come and get me."

Psimon nodded. "Very well. But I think your friends would like to play too."

Then, without warning, Klarion, teekle, and a handful of others appeared in front of Young Justice.

"Let's dance!" Klarion said with enthusiasm.

* * *

The battle, if you could even call it that, went on for an hour, until only Klarion and teekle remained.

"What are you doing here?" Robin demanded, the only member of the team who was not out of breath. "Working with Psimon isn't your M.O. What are you gaining from this?"

"Nothing!" Klarion cackled. "I'm just a distraction."

"From what?" Superboy growled. Though Robin knew, by the sinking feeling in his heart, just what Klarion was talking about.

The witch boy cackled, but before he could answer, the team heard a scream of pain, and turned just in time to watch Nightwing crumple to the ground, a triumphant looking Psimon, standing above him.

"Later babe!" Klarion cooed, sending a mock kissing face to Robin, before vanishing. Psimon followed. The team looked around to ensure none of the fallen guards was going to wake up, before they rushed over to NIghtwing's side.

His body was shuddering with sharp, harsh breaths, and his eyes were squeezed shut tightly, tears slipping from between thick lashes every few seconds.

Quietly, Red Hood knelt down next to his fallen brother, and gently, so as not to hurt him, pulled Nightwing into his arms.

"I've never seen him this still," Miss Martian whispered. Red Hood shook his head, one arm wrapped around Nightwing shoulders, while the other gently brushed stray strands of hair from Nightwing's face. No one had ever seen him that kind.

"None of us have," he whispered. The team remained silent, simply watching as Nightwing began to twist and turn in his brother's arms.

With each thrash of his lithe, agile limbs, Red Hood tightened his grip ever so slightly. Suddenly, as dark shadow fell across the team, and their fallen brother. Instantly, they prepared themselves for a fight, and Red Hood got his legs beneath him ready to run at the slightest hint of danger. Ready to get his brother out of harm's way.

Everyone looked up at their assumed threat, only to find-

"Batman," Robin breathed in relief, as his mentor knelt down next to his son. He had just placed a hand on Nightwing's shoulder, when Red Hood abruptly stood, taking Nightwing with him.

"Don't touch him," he hissed. Batman nodded in silence, before looking down at Robin.

"What happened?" he asked, though there was no anger in his tone. Only fear, and maybe a slight amount of shock.

"We don't know," Robin answered. "But I have a bad feeling that it shouldn't be too hard to figure out."

Batman nodded. "Nightwing blatantly disobeyed me, and came out here, when he had a strong, unknown drug coursing through his system that took him out of action for six days, and rendered him unstable on his feet once he did wake up."

"Batman," Robin said quietly, watching his brother silently cry, as his mind was invaded with what Tim knew were more than likely terrifying images. "I'm scared."

"First, let's get him safe," Batman decided. "Then we can be scared."

* * *

 **Well, I hope you guys liked it!**

 **To whomever brought up the comment about Dick being exposed to the drug before (I don't quite remember who you were. I've been up since three AM. Don't hate) to whomever that was, thank you. I hadn't realized that point, so I'll definitely bring it up again another time.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and I hope to update sometime early tomorrow.**

 **PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review.**

 **I would like to read at least one before I go to bed.**

 **THANKS!**


	6. Chapter 6

**To the viewer Shadowswithouthope: no worries friend. I'm alright. This is a common thing for me, and I was in the hospital in March. I'm fine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

"Bruce, he's been unconscious for eight days," Tim complained for what Jason felt was the thousandth time. "I'm really scared."

"And I am too, Tim, but right now, all we can do is wait. Remember that he had a strong amount of an unknown sedative in his system, and he'd just been mentally attacked by Psimon. This could just be his body's way of restarting."

"Who was he drugged by?" Jason asked, before Tim could complain about something else. Bruce sighed quietly.

"Slade Wilson," he answered softly. "According to Dick, Slade blatantly threatened the team. But from what you said, I don't think Slade was ever in Bialya. Obviously, it was a trap to get Dick in front of Psimon, but then that brings up the question of why he'd give him such a strong drug."

"How strong was it?" Jason spoke quickly when he saw Tim open his mouth to ask another question. Bruce sighed.

"His speech was extremely slurred when I found him, and it kept him unconscious for six days. When he did finally wake up...he's more immune to the drug than he should be."

"Let me see the chemical structure," Jason requested, and Bruce nodded, pulling it up on the batcomputer. Jason stared at the screen for a few seconds, before dropping his head to his chest, and chuckling darkly.

"That idiot," he muttered. "I told him that making that was a bad idea."

"You know the chemist?" Bruce asked with a frown, glancing over at his middle child. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and he's been unconscious for the last eight days," he laughed. "I told him that that drug was going to come back and bite him in the ass."

"Wait, Dick made a drug?" Tim asked in shock. Jason rolled his eyes.

"Yeah. He made it to use on Arkham criminals, to keep them unconscious for a good few weeks. But being the little fucker he is-"

"Jason," Bruce said in a warning tone. Jason ignored him, and went on.

"Dick used it on himself to make sure it worked. He's just lucky he was at my place when he did, and that I knew what he was doing."

"When was he at your place?" Bruce asked suspiciously. Jason rolled his eyes.

"None of your damn business," he muttered, before turning and walking away. Tim opened his mouth to say something else, but Bruce spoke before he could.

"Tim, I don't ever want to hear you say those words. Understood?"

Without waiting for an answer, Bruce got up and walked over to the medbay portion of the batcave, where Dick lay unconscious.

He had become a danger to himself and others soon after being brought back to the batcave, and so his limbs had been restrained to the bed. Nevertheless, he still thrashed, and cried out softly from time to time.

Tim waited until he was sure Bruce was out of earshot, before speaking under his breath.

"Well damn, that's a pain in the ass."

* * *

 _Dick knew he was unconscious, and normally he craved that mental peace, but right then, all he wanted more than anything else, was to wake up._

" _No, no, no!" Dick cried, falling to his knees as the image before him flashed from him having sex with Slade Wilson, to him having sex with Roy Harper, then back to Slade. "This can't be happening! This didn't!"_

 _Tears coursed down his cheeks, as he was forced to relive every moment, and every word, and every touch._

 _Final, it all stopped, and Dick collapsed to his side, body racked with loud, shuddering breaths._

" _Please," Dick whispered, though he knew no one could hear him. "Please, that didn't happen. It didn't happen, please tell me it didn't happen!"_

 _Dick was hysterical, and in that moment, he reverted back to the eight year old acrobat who had just witnessed the death of his only family in the world._

 _Dick lay silently in his mind, before his lips parted, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, unaware that his pain and frustration was being mimicked by his body_

* * *

Bruce shot awake, when Dick screamed at the top of his lungs, back arching off the bed as well as it could with his wrists and ankles still restrained.

"Dick!" Bruce cried. He got to his feet, and stood over his son, who lay trembling and gasping on the bed, still completely unconscious. When it was obvious he wasn't going to scream again, Bruce gently placed a hand on Dick's head, and began carding his fingers through the boy's raven hair.

"Dickie, shh, shh, Dickie-bird, it's okay. It's okay, you're safe. I promise. Please, open your eyes."

Dick moaned softly, before his eyes finally opened for the first time in eight days. When Bruce saw them though, he wished he hadn't.

Dick was shattered.

Bruce's lips parted slightly, and he quickly undid the restraints holding Dick's legs and arms to the table, before drawing the twenty-one year old into his arms.

This simply shattered Dick father, as he went limp in his father's arms, and began sobbing loudly, his entire body shaking. Bruce ran his fingers through Dick's sweaty hair, as he rocked the boy back and forth.

"Shh, shh. Dick, you're okay. You're here, and you're okay. I promise."

"Please," Dick whispered. His voice cracked, and Bruce didn't even realize Dick had said anything, until the boy went on. "Please, tell me it...it didn't...didn't happen."

Bruce tightened his grip on Dick, and continued rocking him back and forth. His silence was Dick's only answer, and the boy began to sob, even harder than before.

* * *

"Jason, what're you-"

Tim was cut off, by Jason's hand over his mouth. The boys stood in the doorway of the medbay, and Tim was just about to use Dick's tactic of licking Jason's hand, when he caught sight of his oldest brother.

He didn't need words to know what had happened.

"Bruce, did he…?" Jason spoke softly, but Bruce knew what he was trying to say, and he nodded.

"He remembers," he answered. He looked down at Dick when the boy shifted slightly, and found the young male watching his brother's with tear filled eyes.

"You shot me," Dick whispered, and everyone knew he was talking to Jason.

"Dickie-bird, I didn't mean-" Jason was cut off by Dick burying his face in Bruce's shirt, and muttering something that no one had heard.

"What did you say, Dickie?" Bruce asked softly, never once stopping his fingers movements through his son's hair. Dick took a shuddering breath, before repeating what he had said in nothing more than a whisper.

"It was my fault."

"Dickie, I'm the one who fired the gun," Jason said gently, walking over to perch himself on the bed behind his brother. He started rubbing circles in Dick's back. Dick stiffened slightly, before relaxing back into Bruce's chest.

"Dick, you weren't in your right mind," Bruce said quietly. "There's no one to blame but-"

"Please don't say his name," Dick cut Bruce off. "Please."

Bruce nodded, and said nothing more, turning to the door to find Tim, who hadn't moved, or even spoken.

"Timmy," Bruce whispered, extending a hand to his youngest. "Come here."

Tim hesitated for a second, before carefully walking over to his family, being sure not to make any sudden noises so as not to send Dick into a full blown panic attack. The acrobat already looked like he was on the brink of one.

"Hey, Dick," Timmy said quietly. Dick looked over at his little brother for a few seconds, before extending his hand to Tim. Tim hesitated, before grasping Dick's hand, and giving it a light squeeze. Dick licked his lips with a nod, but said nothing more.

For the next hour and a half, no one moved, save for Jason, who continued making circular motions on Dick's back, and Bruce, who never once stopped carding his fingers through Dick's hair.

* * *

"Hey Tim!" Connor said cheerfully a week later when Tim dropped down onto the couch next to him. The team looked up and smiled, but when Tim didn't react they all shared worried glances.

"Is everything okay, my friend?" Kaldur asked gently. Tim shook his head, not saying anything for fear that he might start crying. "Would you like to talk about it?"

Connor wrapped an arm around Tim's shoulders, and pulled the third protege of Batman into his side. This seemed to give Tim the courage to talk, because he spoke in a soft voice.

"Dick woke up. About a week ago."

"Well that's great news!" Wally cried. Tim shook his head, looking up at the speedster with red, glassy eyes.

"He remembers everything Wally," he muttered. "He won't leave the Batcave, because he's terrified. The two times Bruce did convince him to come up to the manner, Dick slept with him, and had nightmares that ended in full scale panic attacks, and Dick passing out."

"Oh," Wally muttered, not feeling quite so enthusiastic anymore. Everyone was silent, until Tim dropped his head to Connor's shoulder.

"He doesn't want to be Nightwing anymore, because he's too scared."

"Who's too scared?" Roy asked, walking into the room. Tim shook his head, and looked at Kaldur, begging the team leader to explain. The Atlantian nodded, and looked up at the ex-protege of Green Arrow.

"Dick recalls everything that happened to him, and is now too scared to continue on as Nightwing."

Roy blinked once or twice, before going pale. Everyone knew why.

He had screwed Dick, and the boy remembered.

"Has he...has he said my name? Talked about anything?" he asked. Tim shook his head.

"He hardly talks at all. Honestly, since he's woken up, I've only heard him tell Bruce he doesn't want to be Nightwing anymore. Bruce said he talks, but I'm almost certain it's only to Bruce."

"Not Jason?" Connor questioned.

"Jason shot him, Connor. But being the idiot he is, Dick blames himself."

"How many panic attacks as he had?" M'gann asked. Tim took a shuddering breath.

"Fifteen that I've been present for, but Bruce said there's been at least five a day while I've been at school, sometimes back to back. Bruce said he sent Dick into a panic attack by mentioning Slade's name."

"We have to watch out for him," Wally decided. "He's vulnerable, as much as I hate using that word to describe him, and that's when Slade's going to attack."

Tim nodded, and before anyone had a chance to say anything, he buried his face in Connor's shirt, and began to sob.

It was the first time any of them had seen him cry. Gently, Connor lifted Tim into his arms, and carried him back the hallway to the younger boy's room.

The two sat in silence in the dark, until Tim finally stopped crying.

"Sorry," he said softly. "It's just...I'm just scared for him all the time."

Connor nodded. "Don't be sorry. He's your brother, and you have the right to be scared."

"It's just…" Tim sighed, but the light kiss on his cheek from his boyfriend gave him the courage to go on. "Bruce will have to go back to work at some point. And Dick...he's hardly eaten anything or had anything to drink since he's woken up, and I've heard Bruce lecture him once but…"

"But what?" Connor prompted gently. Tim took a shuddering breath.

"He answered in a whisper, and I hope to God I misheard him, but...he said that Bruce should just let him die, to put him out of his misery."

"Oh," Connor said quietly, not sure how to respond to something like that. "Do you want to head back out to the others?"

Tim shook his head. "I just want to be alone. Is...is that okay?"

Connor nodded, and gave Tim another gentle kiss, before leaving the room. As soon as the door was closed, Tim started to cry once more, and Connor heard every sound.

"Where's Roy?" Connor asked, when he walked back into the living room. Wally shook his head.

"He said he was going to talk to Dick. I told Roy to leave him alone, but he didn't listen."

Connor nodded.

"Where is Tim?" Kaldur asked, looking around.

"He wanted to be alone," Connor responded monotonously. Only being with Tim brought emotion out of Superman's clone. "He started crying again, as soon as I left the room. I should have stayed with him."

Wally shook his head. "No, you made the right choice. Tim's a bat, and he's like Dick. I once made the mistake of not leaving when Dick wanted me too, and it took Batman about six hours to get him to come down from the rafters. Trust me, leaving Tim alone is the best option for right now."

Connor nodded, but he still felt guilty.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Hope you enjoyed! You're all lucky I look through this before I submit it, because otherwise you would have had Batnab and Tom in this chapter.**

 **Anyway, please review and let me know what you think.**

 **Bye!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

"Hey Dickie," Roy said quietly, as he entered the batcave medbay to find Dick alone, and staring at the floor. At his former lover's voice, Dick's head shot up, and he turned to face Roy in horror.

"No," he moaned quietly, and Roy knew in that one word, that Dick remembered everything. "Please, God, no. Just leave me alone."

Roy sighed, and dropped down to the chair in front of Dick. It was warm, indicating someone had recently been down there. Roy hoped no one would come in while he was talking with Dick.

"I heard you remember," he spoke gently, because with one look at Dick's glassy, cerulean blue eyes, Roy could see he was broken. Dick's lip trembled, and he closed his eyes, as tears began to fall.

"I don't want to remember," he whispered hoarsely. Roy nodded, and placed a hand on Dick's knee, only for the young adult to bat him away.

"Don't touch me," Dick demanded. However, Roy didn't listen, and so grabbed Dick's left hand. That proved a bad idea a second later.

"I said don't touch me!" Dick screamed.

* * *

Jason was barely two feet from the medbay door, when he heard Dick.

"Don't touch me!" Dick screamed. The sound was followed by a loud crack, indicating someone had broken something. Or had had something broken.

Fearing that Slade had found a way into the batcave, Jason rushed into the medbay, only to find Dick, trembling with sobs on the bed, and Roy Harper, clutching his nose, and rolling around on the floor.

It didn't take a bat detective to figure out that Dick had broken Roy's nose.

Jason forced back a growl, as he walked into the room, and hauled Roy to his feet.

"What the Hell do you think you're doing?" Jason demanded, trying not to stare at Roy's broken, bleeding nose. Roy groaned.

"I just came to talk, and he punched me!"

"He touched me Jay," Dick whispered, and Jason could see his brother fading into a memory. "Don't let him touch me." he was no longer talking about Roy.

"Oh no you don't," Jason muttered, grabbing a syringe full of adrenaline, and injecting his brother with it. He'd never tell Bruce, but that's what he'd been using to keep Dick's panic attacks at bay. So far it had worked.

Once he was sure Dick was still with them, Jason turned to face Roy.

"Where did you touch him? And I swear to God, if it's where I think it is, I will fuck you up. And this time, you don't have Tim to protect you."

Roy's eyes were fearful, but he took a breath to calm himself.

"I touched his knee first, but he batted me away. I...I grabbed his left hand after that. Kinda wish I'd grabbed his right."

Jason shook his head, clicking his tongue. "He could have punched you just as hard with his left. Trust me. Now, why the fuck are you here, and why the fuck are you harassing my brother?"

"Tim said he remembered. And I...I wanted to apologize."

"You've got a funny way of apologizing," Jason growled. Roy narrowed his eyes.

"Well I don't see you apologizing for shooting him!" he countered. Dick whimpered, and Jason squeezed his knee before turning back to Roy, a sneer on his face.

"Number one, I already did. Ten times. And number two, he blames himself."

The two were locked in a heated staring contest, until Dick spoke softly.

"Where's Bruce?"

Jason continued watching Roy for another second, before turning to face his brother.

"He's upstairs in his study. Do you want to go up and see him?"

Dick shook his head. "I'm too scared."

Jason gave a quiet sigh. "Dickie-bird, you have to face your fear eventually. Remember what Bruce said. You can't let your fears take control of you. You have to take control of them"

Dick nodded. "Okay. I'll go up."

"Are you sure?" Jason asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Dickie, I wasn't trying to force you into anything."

Dick nodded.

"It's like you and Bruce say. I can't let my fear control me."

Jason smiled, and helped his brother down from the bed. Just as they were about to leave the room, Jason turned back to Roy.

"Stay where you are," he ordered. "Or it'll be much more painful."

That threat was enough to freeze Roy in his spot until Jason returned.

* * *

Bruce sighed, and stared down at yet another pile of paperwork. He had been absent from work for two weeks, and it was really starting to weigh on him. He put his pen down, and was just about to bang his head on his desk, when he heard a light knock on his study door.

"Come in," he called, not looking up.

"Hey Bruce," Jason said. Bruce sighed.

"Jason, you shouldn't leave Dick alone," he said, still not looking up. Jason nodded.

"I know. So I brought him with me."

Bruce frowned, and looked up, to find Dick standing next to Jason. He was still considerably pale, but he didn't look to be on the brink of a panic attack, though that didn't mean anything.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asked, as Dick sat in the chair in front of Bruce's desk. Jason stood behind his brother, reassuring hands on Dick's shoulders. Dick gave a slow shrug.

"I don't know," he answered. "Kind of...numb. I guess. Broken."

Bruce nodded. "That's understandable, Dick. You went through a lot."

The study was silent, Dick analyzing the floor, and Bruce analyzing Dick, until Jason spoke.

"I forgot, I have a certain Red Arrow to go deal with. Excuse me please."

With that said, Jason gave Dick's shoulders a gentle squeeze, before turning and leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"What made you want to come up?" Bruce asked, pulling his chair around so he could sit next to Dick. Dick shrugged.

"I just...Jason reminded me of what you said. That I can't...I can't let my fear take control."

Bruce nodded. "Well I'm glad. Does this mean you're going to go back to being Nightwing?"

Dick didn't even think about it, before shaking his head.

"I can't Bruce. I...I don't want to. I don't want to face Slade again."

It was the first time Dick had said his name, and Bruce mentally prepared himself for a panic attack that he sensed was just around the corner.

* * *

"Good, you didn't move," Jason commented, when he found Roy in the same spot he'd been when Jason and Dick had left. "You and I need to talk."

"About...what?" Roy asked. Jason cocked an eyebrow.

"Firstly, we never had our talk about you fucking my baby brother. Second, you almost sent him into a panic attack, so we'll need to talk about that, too. Any questions?"

"I thought Dick was older than you," Roy commented. He had no idea why that was the first thing that came to mind.

"He is," Jason confirmed. "But he's shorter, and he gets hurt more often, so I call him my little brother. Not to his face though."

Roy nodded. "When you say talk...what does that consist of?"

Jason shrugged, cracking his knuckles, and advancing on Roy.

"I dunno," He said casually. "It just depends on how angry I am, regarding the topics we need to talk about. At the least, you'll go home feeling a little sore."

"And at the most?" Roy was trembling, and he didn't really want the answer. Jason gave a dark grin.

"Let's just say you'll have more broken bones than just your nose."

With that, they began their "talk".

* * *

 **Hey guys. Did you like it? Let me know in the reviews. As requested by...I think it was Nightcrawler509, Slade will be in the next chapter, along with Grant, Rose, and Jericho. And yes, I know Jericho doesn't talk, but where's the fun in that, right?**

 **Anyway, please review and let me know what you think.**

 **Bye**


	8. Chapter 8

**Just an author's note that I've never read anything about Slade Wilson's children, because I never even knew he had kids. So please don't get hung up if I write them wrong. Thanks.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

Slade ran his hands over his face, and made his way to the front door after he'd heard the short series of knocks.

It had been three weeks, and he still felt guilty about drugging Dick with the boy's own drug.

"Get it together, Wilson," he chastised himself. "You're a mercenary. He's a hero. This is what happens."

 _But is he really a hero after what you've done to him?_ Slade's mind asked. _You shattered him. There's no denying it. And once he remembers, he'll be too scared to face you._

Shaking away the little voice in his head, Slade opened the door, and groaned instantly.

"Hey dad," Rose Wilson grinned. She was flanked by both her brother's. Grant, and Jericho.

"Yeah," Grant smirked, slinging an arm around Slade's shoulders. "We heard you had a little crush, so we came to harass you about her."

Slade rolled his eyes, trying to give away as little information to his kids as possible. Jericho, however, saw through it. He had always been a perceptive child.

"Your crush is a male, isn't it?" he asked drawing Rose and Grant's attention. "A much younger male by my guess."

Slade rolled his eyes. "He might be," he countered. "What's it to you?"

"How much younger is he?" Rose asked. Slade dropped his gaze, before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Since when do you need to know my age?" he ordered. Grant snorted.

"Since never, but we just want to know how much of an age gap there is."

Slade licked his lips. "Forty-four years. Roughly."

Rose snorted, and looked away, while Grant and Jericho just stared at their father in shock.

"If you weren't so messed up in the head, I'd be sick," Jericho whispered.

"Have you done him yet?" Grant asked and everyone sent him a confused look.

"What are you talking about?" Slade demanded, even though he knew exactly what his son was asking. He just wanted to hear it in the right words.

Grant rolled his eyes. "I mean, did you fuck him? You know, do a little hanky-panky in bed. Or somewhere, at least."

Slade shrugged. "I might've," he answered noncommittally.

No one said anything at first, until Rose spoke up.

"So when can we meet him?" she asked, smiling. Slade's eyes went dark instantly.

"You don't," he said. "Ever."

"Why?" Jericho asked, tilting his head the the left slightly.

Slade gave a frustrated sigh. "Because I brainwashed him," he admitted. "He didn't know. He wasn't...exactly consenting. Then he got away…"

"Does he know how you feel?" Rose asked. Before Slade could even answer, Jericho interrupted.

"He's a hero, isn't he?" he guessed. Slade opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off by one of his neighbors opening their door.

"Let's continue this conversation inside, shall we?" he growled, pulling his children in, before closing the door behind them.

"He is, isn't he?" Jericho asked again. Slade sighed, and dropped onto the couch, his kids standing before him. Grant, who had always considered himself "Daddy's little soldier" had never seen his father so emotional.

"Yes," Slade answered after a few seconds. "He calls himself Nightwing."

"I've heard of him," Rose said, and Slade looked up at her. "He saved me from a mugging a month or two ago. Nice guy. I think he might've hit on me a little, though he hid it pretty well. I couldn't see his eyes, but he's pretty tough looking, not to mention handsome. Just what did you do to break him?"

"I took away his innocence," Slade answered. Jericho frowned at the floor, before speaking up.

"Wasn't he Robin, beforehand?" he answered himself before anyone else could. "He was. He started the Teen Titans. I talked to him once."

"And?" Slade asked. Jericho shrugged.

"He talked about how innocent I seemed, and when I said he seemed the same...he said he'd lost his innocence a long time before. He was only seventeen."

Slade nodded. "That must have been around the time I met him for the first time."

"Ooh," Rose cooed. "Is that when you fell in love?"

Slade narrowed his eyes. "First of all, I hated him with a passion. Second, I brought you into this world, and I can take you out of it."

"So you're saying you gave birth to me?" Rose asked. "Huh. Funny. Mom never mentioned that."

"So...would you care if we hunted Nightwing down?" Grant asked suddenly, and Rose smacked him upside the head.

"Ignore him," she said, turning back to Slade. "If you really love this "Nightwing" character, then change. Stop being a killer, and tell him how you feel."

"But-"

"Dad, you act irrationally all the time," Rose interrupted. "So do that now. Stop thinking, and let your emotions take control for once. Now where are you going?" Rose turned the last sentence to Grant, who was stalking towards the door.

"I'm not going to stay here and watch you corrupt our father."

"Yeah?" Rose countered, as Slade got to his feet. "And what are you going to do about it?"

Grant smirked, and Slade knew exactly what he was thinking.

"I'm going to hunt down this "Nightwing" and have a little chat, and I don't plan to leave, until one of us is no longer breathing. And from what I've heard, he was trained by Batman, which leaves him locked under the rule of "don't kill"."

Slade narrowed his eyes, but before he could say anything, Grant was gone. The small apartment was silent, until Slade spoke up.

"I thought Grant was dead."

Rose shrugged. "According to Grant, Ra's Al Ghul got ahold his corpse, and put him through the Lazarus Pit."

Slade nodded, and Rose placed a hand on Slade's shoulder.

"I can keep my eye on Nightwing if you'd like."

Slade bit his lip, and looked away before nodding.

"Okay," he agreed, before pointing an accusing finger at his daughter. "But don't do anything stupid."

Rose rolled her eyes, and left the apartment, Jericho following after.

* * *

 **Hey guys. I know this was fairly short, but no worries. They'll be back later. Trust me.**

 **PLease let me know what you thought in the reviews, and any advice you have regarding what should happen, or a better way to write Slade's kids. I know Jericho wasn't in it much, but he will be.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

 _So...where would a Nightwing hide?_ Grant thought to himself. After a few moments, he chuckled.

"Of course," he muttered out loud, throwing himself from the roof. "This is child's play."

He caught himself with his grappling gun, and landed on his feet on the sidewalk.

"The best way to catch a bird, is to give him a worm."

Withe that, Grant snuck off into the shadows.

* * *

 _This is definitely a low point in my career._ Grant mused to himself, as he listened to the sounds of fighting behind him. He'd let himself get cornered by some Bludhaven drug dealers, and had made quite a loud commotion. And Nightwing had come. Just like he knew the hero would. Grant waited for the sounds to end, before getting to his feet to face his "savior".

"Thank you. I-" he frowned, when he realized he wasn't speaking to who he thought he was. "You're not Nightwing," he pointed out in disdain. The man snorted, and stepped into the light.

He didn't look like anything special. Army pants, and army jacket over a black shirt. Black combat boots, and a gun strapped to his hip. He did, however, have a red mask over his face.

"No, I'm not," the man confirmed. "Why? Were you looking for him?"

Grant shrugged. "Sort of. I mean, he saved my life awhile back, and I just wanted to thank him." Grant almost gagged at his own lie. The man in the red mask - Grant decided to call him "Red Mask" - didn't move for a few moments, before speaking stiffly.

"Nightwing is retired."

"When will he be back?" Grant asked. Red Mask snorted.

"Don't you know what "retired" means?" he demanded. "It means he's done. He's not coming back."

"But if you know him...look, I just want to thank him. To his face." _with a gun._ Grant added internally. Red Mask analyzed him silently, arms crossed over his chest, before he sighed.

"I'll talk to him," he finally said. "But don't get your hopes up."

"When would I...be able to thank him?"

"A week from today," Red Mask shrugged. "Maybe more. He's been through a rough couple of years, which is what led to his retirement, which is why I'm not too sure he'll come back."

"But you'll talk to him?" Grant asked again. He could all but see Red Mask rolling his eyes.

"If it means you'll leave me alone for the night, then yes. I'll talk to him."

"Thank you," Grant praised, though there was no truth in the words. Red Mask nodded, before turning, and walking away. "I'm going to be sick," Grant muttered. Taking one last look around, he disappeared into the shadows, unaware that he was being closely watched.

* * *

"I just want to sleep," Slade muttered to himself, as he made his way to the front door. "But that's apparently too much to ask for in Bludhaven."

With a sigh, Slade answered the door, before groning.

"Can't you two just leave me alone for twenty-four hours?"

He turned, and walked into his kitchen, well aware that Rose and Jericho would follow after.

"We just wanted to update you," Rose said cheerfully, sitting herself down on one of the bar stools. Her father regarded her with a raised eyebrow.

"On?" he asked, as he prepared some coffee.

"We spotted Grant talking with Red Hood," Jericho explained. "From what we could hear, they were talking about Nightwing."

"What about him?" Slade asked, just barely preventing fear from creeping into his voice.

"It sounded like Grant was trying to meet with Nightwing," Rose answered. "But I'm betting it wasn't for anything nice."

"How did Red Hood respond?" Slade questioned, taking a sip of his coffee.

"He said Nightwing was retired," Jericho recalled slowly. "But he said he'd try and get him out to meet Grant."

Slade groaned, dropping his head onto the counter. "He's going to lead Dick right into a trap."

Rose and Jericho shared confused glances. "um...I thought he was meeting with Nightwing."

Slade was silent, as what he'd just said ran through his mind, before he slammed his hand on the counter next to his head.

"Damn it," he whispered, and Rose chuckled.

"No worries dad. We won't look into it. Just make sure Grant doesn't figure it out."

Slade sighed, and nodded, before sitting up, and walking back to his room.

"Where are you going?" Jericho asked. Slade hesitated, before shaking his head.

"I have to warn Dick."

"But what if Grant follows you?" Rose pressed. Slade snorted.

"That boy couldn't find his way out of a paper bag. It's fine."

They all knew he was lying.

* * *

"What did you do to Roy?" Dick asked Jason, as the two laid sprawled across Dick's bed. It had taken a long, long time, but Dick had almost completely recovered enough to be on his own, though he wasn't anywhere close to accepting what had happened to him.

"Who?" Jason asked, playing numb. Dick rolled his eyes, and pulled his knees to his chest, kicking Jason in the back. The two had a strange position where Jason sat facing one armrest, and Dick leaned against the other, with his feet resting on Jason's back.

"Hey!" Jason shouted. Dick only snickered.

"Don't play dumb, Jason, it doesn't suit you," he chastised. "But seriously. What did you do to Roy?"

Jason rolled his eyes, and turned around to face his brother.

"He was still breathing when he left, if that's what you're getting at."

"Jason, what did you do?" Dick demanded. Jason only shrugged.

"You know, it's hard to recall," he easily caught Dick's feet that time, and held them in a vice like grip, until Dick started screaming for Bruce.

Bruce walked in, sighing. "What are you two doing?"

"Just playing," Jason answered innocently. Before Bruce could ask what that even meant, Jason looked at Dick. "So I met some guy last night that Nightwing apparently saved."

"Oh?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow. "What about it?"

"He wants to meet you so he can thank you face to face," Jason explained. Dick dropped his gaze.

"I don't know, Jay," he said quietly.

"Dick, I think it would be good for you," Bruce cut in. "I know you hate Bludhaven, and believe me, I do too. But I think it would really help you. Getting back into the swing of things, and being Nightwing again, if only for one night...Dick, I think that's what you need."

Dick sighed, and dropped his gaze to his lap, until Jason squeezed his ankle.

"Hey, I'll be out there too, if you want me too. I won't intrude on your conversation, but I'll be nearby."

Dick was quiet for a few minutes, before nodding.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay, I'll do it."

"Great!" Jason praised.

"But first," Dick said slowly. "I want to talk to Roy."

* * *

 **Hey guys! Here's another chapter for you! I hope you enjoy. How do you think that conversation between Dick and Roy is going to go, and the conversation/fight between Dick and Grant is going to go?**

 **PLEASE REVIEW, AND LET ME KNOW**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Dick bit his lip, as he stared at the worn, wooden door that he'd walked through so many times before. He swallowed thickly, and glanced back when Jason put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to do this, Dickie-bird," Jason said quietly. "He's the one who screwed you."

Dick nodded. "But Jason, I wanted it just as much as he did. I...I forced myself on him."

"You were brainwashed."

Dick shook his head, and pulled his shoulder away from his little brother.

"That doesn't change anything. I punched him in the face too. If you won't let me apologize for...at least let me apologize for punching him."

Jason sighed, and rolled his eyes. "Alright, fine," he relented. Dick nodded, and turned back to the door.

"You'll stay here, right?" Dick asked, looking back to Jason.

"Of course, Golden Boy," Jason smirked. "Then we can head out whenever you're ready. I've got your stuff in my car. But let me say one thing. If he so much as makes you cry...I might just kill him."

Dick nodded, and with a deep, shuddering breath, knocked on the door.

"I'm coming!" Roy called, and just the sound of his voice sent shivers down Dick's back, as he flashed back to when he was brainwashed.

" _Screw me," he whispered. "Slade doesn't ever have to know."_

 _Roy swallowed thickly, before nodding, and slowly pulling his shirt off, as Dick did the same._

" _Okay," he agreed, smiling before he pushed the younger male onto the bed, crawling on top of him. "I'll screw you."_

Dick shuddering, forcing the memory away, as Roy Harper pulled the door open. They simply stared at each other in silence, before Dick finally got the courage to speak.

"I see Jason...talked with you."

Roy was frozen for another few seconds, before glancing down at his knee.

"Yeah…" he said slowly. "He kinda shattered my knee."

Dick smirked. "Sounds like something he would do."

Jason rolled his eyes, but didn't bother to deny it.

"Listen, Dick," Roy instantly got to business. "Not that I don't like when you show up unannounced...I mean, I _don't_ like it, but that's not my point. My point is...what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk," Dick said softly. "And...apologize."

"For what?" Roy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Breaking your nose," Dick answered, trying not to smirk. Roy shrugged.

"Not your fault, Dick. I'm the one that pushed too far."

"So...you're not mad at me about it?" Dick asked. Roy shook his head.

"I could never be mad at you."

Dick nodded. "Okay. And...I'm sorry about…" he swallowed thickly, and dropped his gaze to the ground, unable to look Roy in the eyes as he continued. "I'm sorry about forcing myself on you when I was brainwashed."

Roy was silent, and for a second, Dick was sure he was about to get yelled at. He was surprised however, when Roy slowly, wrapped his arms around Dick's shoulders, giving the younger male a gentle squeeze.

"It's not your fault," he whispered. "It was never your fault."

Dick didn't move for a long time, until he finally got the courage to wrap his arms around Roy's back. The two remained like that for a long time, until Dick pulled away first.

"Thank you," he said softly, before turning, and walking away, Jason following close behind. Roy watched them leave, simply content to stand in his doorway. As soon as he knew they were out of earshot, he took a shuddering breath, and ran a hand through his short red hair.

"Oh God," he whispered. "I still love him."

* * *

"So this person who I apparently saved. What was his name?" Dick asked Jason, as they ran across the rooftops of Bludhaven, dressed as Nightwing and Red Hood. Red Hood snorted.

"He never said," he admitted, grunting quietly as they landed on yet another rooftop. "But the better question, is how are you in better shape then I am, when you haven't been out for awhile?"

Nightwing laughed. "I was brainwashed by Slade Wilson, remember? He taught me a few things."

"Oh?" Red Hood questioned. He knew his next comment would probably set his brother on edge, but that's how family is supposed to work. "He teach you some tricks in bed?"

Nightwing didn't answer, though Red Hood saw him stumble ever so slightly.

"So where are we meeting this guy?" Nightwing asked, changing the subject.

"Up ahead I think," Red Hood confirmed after a few seconds. "Yeah. This next rooftop."

Nightwing nodded, before launching himself off the building, pulling his grappling gun out and firing it when he was three feet from the ground.

It jammed.

And he fell.

* * *

"Listen, dad, I don't think you should go after Dick," Rose said, and Slade jumped, spinning around to face her.

"You left three hours ago," he stated coldly. "How did you get into my house?"

Rose shrugged, and didn't bother to answer. "If Dick really does remember what you did...that might just push him over the edge."

"I know but-"

"Dad, just shut up and listen to her," Jericho interrupted. Slade was shocked at his son's outburst that he did, indeed, stop speaking.

"Thank you," Rose said, turning her words to Jericho. "Now, I've gotta better idea. Dick doesn't know me, right?"

Slade licked his lips, before shaking his head.

"Let me talk to him. Tell him he's walking into a trap. Sure, he'll be suspicious, but he'll listen. Seeing you...dad, you could send him into a panic attack."

"And if you really love him, you wouldn't want to send him into a panic attack, right?" Jericho asked.

"Yeah, but…" Slade sighed. "I want to show him that I've changed."

"Give him time, dad," Rose said. "That's all he really needs. Give him time."

Slade was silent for a few minutes, before nodding.

"Okay. Fine. I'll give him space."

"Thank you," Rose smiled. Slade rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. Just get out of my house."

Rose snorted, before following Jericho out of the apartment. As soon as the door closed, her brother turned to her.

"Dad's not going to listen to you."

Rose rolled her eyes, and they made their way for the stairs.

"Of course he's not. He'll just regret it when Dick has a panic attack."

* * *

"So...are we not going to talk about your near death experience a second ago?" Red Hood asked the stony figure next to him.

"No," Nightwing responded darkly, sounding more like Batman then himself. The fall had terrified him. Red Hood nodded, and looked around the rooftop.

"Doesn't look like your admirer is here yet."

"I have eyes, Red Hood," Nightwing stated bluntly. "I can see that for myself."

Yeah. The fall has definitely shaken him.

"It's half past midnight," Red Hood stated. "How long do you want to wait?"

"We'll give him till one AM," Nightwing decided after a moment of thought. "Then we go home."

"I truly hope your definition of "home" is the morgue," a dark voice spoke from behind. Nightwing didn't even have a chance to turn around, before a knife was jammed into his shoulder, hilt deep.

* * *

It was half past midnight, and Roy Harper sat on the edge of his bed, staring blankly at the wall.

It had been a long time since he'd had a wet dream about Dick.

With a sigh, he forced himself to his feet, and over to the bathroom to get changed, and to clean himself off.

He flipped the light on, and stared at himself in the mirror.

"Why do I have a feeling Dick's getting himself hurt right now?" Roy muttered to himself. He laughed, bracing his hands on the sink, and dropping his chin to his chest. "Because Dick always gets himself hurt, that's why. God, I can't get him out of my head. I still love him."

Roy stood silently at his sink, until he finally forced himself to get undressed, and in the shower. As he stood there, eyes closed and head tilted back into the shower spray, his mind convinced him to act.

"I'm going to tell Dick I still love him," he muttered to himself. "And I'm going to try and get him back."

* * *

"Bruce, where's Dick?" Tim asked, as they undressed after a few long hours on patrol.

"He's out patrolling Bludhaven with Jason," Bruce answered, attention locked on his computer. Tim froze, before turning back to his father.

"I thought Dick...retired," he stated, walking over to stand next to Bruce.

"He did," Bruce answered, though he sounded distracted, eyes locked on his screen. "Jason convinced him to."

"Does that mean he's going to go back to Bludhaven?" Tim asked. He liked having his entire family living in one place, and he didn't really want Dick to move out. Bruce was silent.

"For his safety, I hope he does."

Tim frowned. "What do you mean?"

Bruce took a shuddering breath, and ran a hand over his face.

"Tony Zucco was just released from prison."

* * *

"How are you not dead yet!" Grant screamed. Thirty seconds into the fight, he'd managed to inject Jason with some sort of sedative, and the boy had gone down. Now it was only Dick, his shoulder bleeding profusely from the stab wound, and Grant, who was terribly out of breath.

"I was trained by Batman," Nightwing answered. "I'm pretty good at not dying."

"And I was trained by the best mercenary there is," Grant growled. "I'm pretty good at killing people."

Nightwing shrugged with his good shoulder, as the two began to circle one another.

"I won't kill you," Nightwing said quietly. "I don't kill."

Grant sneered. "Oh I know. And I'm counting on it."

Nightwing sighed. "I don't want to fight you. Trust me."

Grant screamed again, before launching himself at the hero. Nightwing just barely avoided him, but it sent him over the roof.

Nightwing pulled his grappling gun out, and prayed to anyone he could think of, that it wouldn't jam.

It didn't and their fight moved, until they found themselves in the heart of Gotham.

"Listen to me," Nightwing ordered. He was panting, and sweating, and he could feel himself close to passing out. "I don't know you. I don't anything about you, but this city? Gotham? I know it like the back of the hand, and if the Joker is out tonight then we're both dead. If you walk away now, I won't seek you out. I'll let you go."

Grant laughed loudly. "But I'd seek you out, and kill you in your sleep."

"I don't care," Nightwing said firmly. "I'm trying to help you."

Before Grant had a chance to say anything, they both heard the sick, and twisted laughter that Nightwing had hoped to never hear again.

The Joker.

* * *

"I hate to interrupt your evening Master Bruce, but you may want to go back on patrol," Alfred said, as he walked into the living room to find Tim and Bruce watching a movie. Bruce frowned up at his butler, while Tim listened closely.

"Why?" he asked. "What's going on?"

Alfred sighed. "Apparently Nightwing was spotted in Gotham followed by someone unknown. From what the witness said, she thought Nightwing seemed slow, almost as if he was injured."

Tim and Bruce shared a terrified look, before they bolted from the couch, and down to the Batcave. Alfred sighed, grabbing the TV remote, and turning the movie off.

"Not even a thank you," he muttered to himself.

* * *

Nightwing gasped quietly, bent over his knees, as he struggled against the effects of Joker's laughing gas. Choking back laughter of his own, Nightwing cast a glance at the unconscious clown, before looking over at Grant.

He'd clearly never experienced Joker's gas before.

Nightwing groaned, as he dropped himself to his knees next to Grant, reaching into his belt to find two syringes full of the antidote.

"Convenient," he muttered to himself, quickly injecting himself with one, before helping Grant.

Grant's eyes went wide, as he took a loud gasp of air, before rolling to his side, and fighting for air.

Nightwing stayed where he was, eyes half opened, swaying in his spot. He'd lost too much blood, that was obvious. Grant coughed once or twice, before looking over at the hero.

"You saved me," he rasped out. Nightwing blinked sluggishly, before realising someone was speaking to him.

"Of course," he said, his voice weighing down with exhaustion. "That's what I do."

"But I stabbed you," Grant pushed on, and Nightwing knew if they kept going on like that, he was going to pass out. "I tried to kill you."

"The Joker's tried to kill me more times than I can count," Nightwing said, his voice barely audible. "And I've never killed him. I never will."

Grant nodded. "I suppose we could call a truce," he said slowly. Before he could say anything, Nightwing lost his ability to keep himself upright, and so fell forward. Grant acted quickly, and caught the injured hero before he could hit the ground.

"Back...middle pouch," Nightwing muttered, and Grant reached in to find a small piece of paper with an address scribbled on it in neat handwriting. "That's my...apartment," he gave a weak laugh. "Unless you're going to kill me that is."

He never heard Grant's response, as that was when his body gave up on him, and lost consciousness.

* * *

 **Hey guys! Did you like it?! Was there enough suspense? I hope so. I tried.**

 **Anyway, please review, and let me know what you though.**

 **Trust me, the reviews really are what keep me writing.**

 **THANKS**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Dick groaned loudly, as consciousness finally returned. He started to sit up, only for a voice to speak.

"I wouldn't move too much if I were you."

Dick's eyes flew open, and he looked around to find himself on his couch, Grant sitting nearby. Instantly, Dick's hand flew to his face.

"I didn't take your mask off if that's what you're checking for," Grant said, his eyes never leaving Dick. Dick took a shuddering breath, before frowning at the mercenary.

"But...I was vulnerable. You had me at your mercy for-"

"Twenty-four hours," Grant confirmed. "Give or take."

"How did you get in here?" Dick asked, looking around. "You didn't have a key."

Grant shrugged. "I have my ways. Which reminds me, you might want to get a new lock for your door."

Dick nodded slowly, before wincing. He glanced down, to find himself shirtless, a large bandage wrapped around his shoulder.

"You...stitched it up?" he asked. Grant shrugged.

"You saved me," he admitted quietly. "While it's not in my father's code, it's in mine. I saved you, because you saved me."

Dick swallowed thickly. "Right. What...um, what's your name?"

"Grant," Grant answered. "Listen, um, that man who...that man in Gotham. Who was he?"

Dick snorted. "He's less of a man, and more of a menace. He calls himself the Joker."

Grant nodded. "Makes sense, I suppose. Look, I would never really consider this..before...I've always considered myself daddy's little soldier...but you're young, and innocent. You have your whole life ahead of you. So I'm going to do everything I can to protect you from my father."

"Who's your father?" Dick asked, though he had a sinking feeling that he knew the answer. Grant looked away.

"Deathstroke. Or Slade Wilson."

Dick closed his eyes, breath freezing in his lungs, as a memory flashed across his mind's eye:

 _Dick rolled his eyes. "You know, you're really killing the mood with all this serious talk. Just fuck me already, would you?"_

" _You want me to fuck you?" Slade asked, a sly smile creeping across his face. "Alright," he agreed darkly, as he got up on his knees, and towered over Dick. "I'll fuck you."_

Dick closed his eyes tightly, and was just barely able to prevent himself was throwing up.

"I heard what he did to you," Grant said calmly. "I'm sorry."

Dick shook his head. "Don't be. You didn't know."

Grant nodded, before getting to his feet. "You should check on your stitches in around an hour, make sure they're not infected."

"So you're leaving then?" Dick guessed. Grant shrugged.

"I'll stick around Bludhaven, keep my eyes open for my father, and keep my eye on you."

"Thank you," Dick said softly, forcing himself to his feet as he followed Grant to the front door. Grant nodded.

"You're welcome. Just try to stay off your feet as long as you can. You lost quite a bit of blood."

Dick chuckled. "Yeah, I can feel that."

Grant pursed his lips, giving Dick a short, simple nod.

"See you around Nightwing."

With that, he left the apartment, closing the door behind him. Dick looked down at the broken lock before deciding to fix it later.

Instead, he made his way back to the living room to take a nap on the couch. Despite being unconscious for twenty-four hours, he was exhausted.

* * *

"I'm worried, Bruce," Tim said. "What if Dick is dead?"

"This all my fault," Jason muttered, holding his head in his hands. "I let that guy get the drop on me."

"Dick made it to Gotham," Bruce said calmly. "There's a chance, however small, that he was able to make it back to Bludhaven."

"Bruce, he was stabbed," Jason said harshly, staring up at his father. "Hilt deep. If he made it to Gotham, he lost a lot of blood. There's no way he stayed conscious, and there's no way that guy let him live."

"I was trying to be positive," Bruce said calmly. Jason gave a sardonic laugh.

"Yeah, because Batman is _so_ positive."

"Do I look like Batman to you?" Bruce demanded, raising his voice slightly. Jason, who never had been able to resist a fight, snorted.

"You know, I can't really tell anymore since you're two lives intertwine themselves far too often for my taste."

Tim sighed, turning and walking away. He didn't feel like watching Jason go at it with Bruce for the hundredth time that week.

He was barely out of the room when the two started their screaming match.

* * *

Dick opened his eyes slowly, when he thought he heard someone walk into his apartment, but when he was met with nothing but silence, he closed his eyes and dropped his forehead back to the rim of his coffee cup. Until the intruder spoke.

"I heard you got heard."

Dick jerked up, and stumbled to his feet, staring in horror at the man before him.

"Slade."

Slade analyzed the boy in silence. Dick's entire form was trembling, and yet he didn't move.

"You're not running," Slade commented. "Why?"

Dick took a shuddering breath, and shook his head. "What's the point?" he asked in a soft voice. "You're stronger and faster than I am. What's the point in trying to fight back?"

"To show me how you're still able to fight," Slade answered calmly, taking a few steps forward. With every inch he closed between them, Dick trembled even harder. Slade froze when they were simply three inches from one another. Dick lifted his head to look at Slade, eyes hard. His lips parted slightly so that Slade could feel his sharp, warm breaths on his own lips.

Slade knew it was a risk, but everything screamed at him to kiss the young adult before him. He knew Dick would fight back, but he decided to listen to Rose for once in her life, and let his emotions take control.

And so, he kissed Richard Grayson.

Instantly, just as Slade had expected, Dick slammed his hands into Slade's chest, pushing away.

"What the hell!?" Dick screamed. "You're insane!"

Slade narrowed his eyes, but forced back his mercenary side, and tried to calm himself.

Until Dick tried to punch him.

The boy wasn't wrong when he had said that Slade was much stronger than him.

In an instant, Slade had grabbed Dick's wrist, pulling the boy's arm behind his back, holding it in such a position as to dislocate Dick's shoulder if he moved too much. Slade spun the boy around so that his back was pressed into Slade's chest.

Dick struggled, and Slade began to slowly, yet tenderly place kisses down Dick's neck. He felt himself getting hard, and even though he didn't like it, he went with his instincts, and dragged Dick back to the bedroom, tossing the light boy onto the bed.

He'd never heard anyone scream in fear as loud as Dick did.

Slade was just lucky that screaming was common in Bludhaven, and so no one suspected a thing.

Slade quickly removed Dick's baggy shirt, and placed his hands on Dick's hips.

Through both their pants, Slade could tell the boy was just as hard as he was.

Dick wanted it too, just as much as Slade did. Even if he didn't know it.

The mercenary yanked Dick's arms over his head, and continued kissing the boy's arms, and shoulders.

Until he tasted blood.

Pulling back, Slade looked down from where he was perched on Dick's pelvis, to find torn stitches on Dick's shoulder. Slade ran his fingers over Dick's room, only to elicit a cry of pain from the boy beneath him.

Only then did he really realize what he was doing.

He was scaring the only person he'd ever truly loved.

It didn't take Slade long to decide what to do. Quickly, he rolled off of Dick, pulling the boy into his chest, as he examined the back of his shoulder, which was also torn. He was just about to brush his fingers over that as well, when he felt something.

Dick was trembling. Slade bit his lip, before setting Dick back down on the bed, before quickly rushing out of the room in search of a needle and thread.

When he returned, Dick was sitting up against the wall at the head of the bed, legs pulled into his chest.

He was still trembling.

He looked up at Slade with glassy eyes, tears running down his face.

"Please," he whispered. "Please, just leave me alone."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Slade said slowly, climbing onto the bed. Dick's lip trembling, and Slade could read the pure, unadulterated fear in his shining blue eyes. "I didn't know you were injured."

"What were you going to do to me?" Dick asked, even though he pretty much already knew the answer. Slade dropped his gaze.

"When were you hurt?" Slade asked, gesturing to Dick's wound. Dick shrugged, before wincing slightly.

"Last night," he answered, before frowning slightly. "I was...unconscious for twenty-four hours. Roughly last night."

"What kind of weapon did they use?" Slade prompted, pouring some antiseptic over Dick's shoulders. He let out a hoarse cry, digging his fingernails into his legs, as he tried not to cry anymore than he already was.

"Knife," Dick answered simply. He wasn't entirely sure why he was telling Slade, but part of him liked it. Liked the attention, and liked being cared for. "Hilt deep."

"Who was he?" Slade asked. Dick shook his head, his assailant's name escaping him.

"I don't remember," he said softly. Slade had finished sewing up the front of his wound, and had started on the back. Both Dick, and Slade were surprised, when Dick leaned forward and rested his head on Slade's shoulder.

"Dick, you're burning up," Slade commented. "Do you have a fever?"

Dick shook his head slowly. "I don't know. I'm tired."

Slade nodded, and looked back to Dick's wound. After a few silent seconds, he finished.

"Alright," he said quietly. "I'm done."

When Dick didn't answer, Slade looked down to find the boy fast asleep. Slade swallowed thickly, smiling and brushing a few strands of hair out of Dick's face. The acrobat shifted slightly, but did nothing else.

Being careful to not wake him up, Slade readjusted their position so that he rested with his back against the wall, and Dick was leaning against his chest, head on his shoulder.

Slade smiled, and kissed Dick's forehead, running his fingers through Dick's ebony black hair.

"I love you," Slade whispered, thankful that Dick was asleep, and couldn't hear him.

He had no idea just how light a sleeper Dick was. The last of the Grayson's had heard every word, before truly drifting off into sleep.

* * *

 **Hey guys! I hope you enjoyed this! Hope you enjoyed the kinda sorta forced sweet moment between Slade and Dick here at the end.**

 **PLEASE REview and let me know what you think**

 **BYE**

 **PS: I loved writing the scene here between Dick and Slade. Things are changing here people**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When Dick woke up again, he thought he was alone. Until he heard someone moving around in the kitchen. With a groan, he pulled himself into a seated position, just as the memories of the night before came crashing back down.

"Oh God," Dick groaned quietly. WIth a deep, shuddering breath, he pulled himself out of bed, and stumbling out into the kitchen, where he found Slade, making coffee.

"You didn't...touch me. Did you?"

Slade turned around to face Dick, who hardly looked steady on his feet. Slade gave him a gentle smile.

"No," he answered honestly. "I didn't touch you."

Dick nodded, and looked around, before turning back to face Slade.

"Why are you still here?"

Slade set his coffee mug on the counter, and regarded Dick with gentle eyes.

"I was worried about you," he admitted. "I just wanted to wait till you woke up."

"Because you love me," Dick guessed. The words made his heart flutter. Slade stood frozen for a few seconds.

"What makes you think that?" he asked, trying to give nothing away.

"I heard you," Dick admitted softly, taking a few tentative steps forward, until the only separating him and Slade was the counter. Slade nodded.

"I'm sorry," the mercenary said softly. "I shouldn't have forced myself on you. I...I wasn't thinking logically."

Dick nodded, swallowing thickly. He cast a gaze towards his front door with a quiet sigh.

"I guess I'll have to go fix my door."

"Is it broken?" Slade asked, coming around to Dick's side of the counter, and looking towards it. Dick nodded.

"I guess I'll have to move in with Bruce, or Roy."

Slade bit his tongue, as his blood boiled at the name "Roy".

"Roy would be a better option," Slade said, forcing his voice to work. "That way you don't have to travel to Gotham by yourself."

Dick nodded, and looked around before he found his cell phone. He went to grab it but froze, as a thought went through his head.

"Why am I so comfortable around you?" he asked, glancing up from under his bangs to gaze at the mercenary. Slade shook his head.

"I don't know. But...listen, Dick. I want you to know that...I'm going to change. I've already sold all my weapons, and I'm working to clear my name."

"What?" Dick breathed. Slade shrugged.

"It's time I tried to integrate myself back into society."

* * *

Roy stared silently at his cell phone, as it quietly buzzed, Dick's name crossing across the screen.

"He's just a friend," Roy chastised himself. "He's just calling as a friend. That's it. Remember?"

With a deep, shuddering breath, Roy answered the phone, and spoke with forced calm.

"Hello?"

" _Hey Roy!"_ Dick's voice was light, but Roy could tell something was bothering him.

"Hey Dick, what's up?" Roy asked, trying to calm his heart down, and get his stomach to stop fluttering.

" _Nothing,"_

He was hiding something.

" _So...getting straight to the point...my house was...someone broke the lock on my front door, and I was hoping I could come stay with you until it gets fix. If you're not comfortable, that's perfectly fine. I can find another place to stay."_

"No, Dick, that's perfectly fine. It doesn't bother me at all. Are you sure it's what you want though?"

Dick took a shuddering breath. " _Yeah. Yeah. I don't...I don't really want to go back to Gotham, and you live close enough that I can keep my eye on my apartment while not living there. Does that make sense?"_

"Why can't you stay there while they're fixing it?" Roy asked suddenly.

Dick gave an uneasy laugh. " _My entire door needs to be replaced, and I kinda hate all my neighbors. I'm sure you know the feeling."_

Roy snorted. "Oh trust me. I do."

" _Great. So...when do you want me to come over?"_

"Well I've eaten, and I'm not naked, so whenever you'd like."

Dick didn't say anything, and Roy mentally slapped himself when he realized the image that he'd just put in the boy's head.

" _Give me a few minutes to eat, and get dressed, then I'll be over,"_ Dick finally confirmed after tense seconds. Roy nodded.

"Great. I'll get the guest bedroom set up."

" _Roy, I can sleep on the couch,"_ Dick objected.

"Richard John Grayson," Roy said firmly. "You have been sleeping in my guest bedroom since I got this apartment. I honestly don't mind."

DIck sighed. " _Alright. I'll see you soon."_

"Yep," Roy said firmly, before hanging up. He glanced down, and mentally groaned. "I gave him the image of myself being naked, and then got the image of him naked in my head...I need to shower."

With that, Roy placed his phone on the kitchen counter, and made his way to the bathroom.

* * *

 **I know that chapter was kinda short, but I've got people coming to my house in half an hour, so I should technically be getting ready.**

 **I'll hopefully be able to upload a new chapter later.**

 **PLease review and let me know what you think.**

 **IF YOU HAVE ANY SUGGESTIONS AS TO WHAT SHOULD HAPPEN BETWEEN DICK AND ROY, PLEASE, BY ALL MEANS, LET ME KNOW IN THE REVIEWS, OR IN A PM.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey guys! I am so so sorry with the month long delay! I've just been so busy with school that I haven't had a chance to update, or really the feeling that I want to.**

 **But it came back today, so here we go!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

Roy didn't know why he was so nervous. He'd had Dick in his house before. He'd had Dick in his bed before. Hell, he'd _fucked_ Dick before. So why the Hell was he so nervous? Roy had just opened his mouth to say something, when Dick spoke.

"So what-"

"Yes!" Roy answered, before blushing when he realized he didn't know what Dick was going to say. "Sorry. Go on."

Dick shot him a quizzical look, before shrugging. "I was going to ask what you wanted to talk about."

Roy was silent. He honestly didn't know what to talk about with the love of his life, nor did he know how to talk to a rape victim. The apartment was empty, until Dick spoke in a soft tone.

"We don't have to talk at all if you don't want to."

"Your gun," Roy said suddenly, and Dick looked over at him in confusion. "Your Kryptonite gun. Tell me about that."

"Alright," DIck agreed slowly. "What about it?"

"You don't kill people, Dick. It's in your code. So why would you make a gun that could not only kill your mentor, but also your teammate?"

Dick was silent for a long time, before he finally answered, a small smirk on his face.

"Everyone has thoughts of rebellion, Roy," he shot the older male a pointed look. "Mine were just a little more violent."

"Why?" Roy asked, and it was then that he became aware of how close he was to Dick. The boy shrugged.

"I've been surrounded by violence, and death, and destruction since I was eight years old. Anyone could argue that that's all I know."

"But that still doesn't explain why your thoughts are darker," Roy pressed. Dick sighed.

"Whenever I'd get angry, or frustrated, Bruce would tell me to stay calm. Or he'd tell me to relax, and take a deep breath. Never once did he tell me to let my anger out. I guess because of that...it just kind of built up."

"I'm sorry," Roy said softly, and Dick snorted.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault in the slightest."

After he'd said that, the apartment was then dropped into silence again, until Dick got to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Roy asked instantly, before mentally chastising himself for seeming so needy. Dick looked back at him, and for a second, Roy thought he noticed something off about Dick's eyes.

"The bathroom," Dick answered slowly. "Do you feel like you need to come along."

Roy gave an obviously fake laugh as he leaned back into the couch, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Of course not," he retorted, though he really wanted to hold Dick. "Go to the bathroom."

Dick frowned, before walking over to Roy's tiny bathroom, and closing the door. As soon as it was locked, Dick dropped to the floor, eyes wide, as he forced himself to take shuddering breaths.

 _God, what the hell is wrong with you Grayson!_ He asked himself, as his breathing turned into hyperventilating. _It's just Roy! What the fuck is wrong with him?!_

 _Exactly that._ Dick's mind answered. _He fucked you. And that's all you've been able to think about ever since you called him. You're horney, Grayson. Admit it._

Dick closed his eyes on account of the world spinning.

 _I am not._ Dick denied his own feelings, though he knew his mind was telling the truth. _I have no interest in Roy that way. Not anymore._

 _But you have an interest in someone that way._ Dick was really starting to hate this good cop bad cop routine he'd fallen into with his mind. _A certain...ex-mercenary who was in your bed last night?_

"Shut up!" Dick screamed, and only when there was a rapid knocking on the door, did Dick realize he'd spoke aloud.

"Dick, are you okay?"

Dick was still hyperventilating, as he pulled himself to his feet, and began unlocking the door. By happenstance, Dick glimpsed himself in the mirror.

His pupils were severely dilated, and Dick knew for a fact that he didn't have a concussion. Dick's vision flickering reminded him that he was having trouble breathing. Instantly, he threw open the bathroom door and collapsed, sobbing, into Roy's arms.

"Hey, hey!" Roy said frantically, pulling Dick into his chest, as the young boy broke down in front of him. "Dick, what happened? What's going on?!"

Dick only shook his head, and continued to sob. Roy sighed, and ran his fingers through Dick's hair, until the boy finally went limp. Glancing down, Roy noted that Dick's eyes were wide, and filled with unshed tears.

"Dickie," Roy said softly, and Dick slowly turned his gaze to Roy after a few seconds. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Dick shook his head, and a few more tears fell. "I'm scared, Roy."

"Of what?" Roy asked gently, adjusting Dick into a better position. Dick watched the ground in silence, before answering in such a quiet tone that Roy almost didn't hear him.

"Myself."

* * *

 **Well? What did you think? Sorry if it was too short. There was someone screaming at my school, and I couldn't focus. But I promise to update more later today, or later this week, though I'll try for later today.**

 **Anyway, please tell me how you liked it or didn't like it, and give me any suggestions!**

 **THANKS**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Roy couldn't sleep. For two reasons, one of which was obvious.

The first reason, Dick would let out silent sobs every few minutes throughout the night, and he tossed and turned as what was most likely a nightmare assault his mind.

The second reason? Dick was in Roy's bed. After his breakdown, Dick didn't want to be alone for the rest of the evening, so the two simply sat on Roy's couch, watching movies that they both used to love.

Roy didn't think either of them had really payed much attention to them. During the fifth movie, around eleven-thirty that night, Dick had fallen asleep with his head on Roy's shoulder and Roy hadn't had the heart to make him sleep in the guest room. So as gently as he could, Roy had carried Dick to the master bedroom, and there they had slept, until Roy had woken around two AM, unable to fall back to sleep.

 _You should kiss him._ The horney part of Roy's mind supplied. _Think about it. He's asleep, and a kiss from you might just make him feel better._

Roy glanced over at Dick, the idea seeming tempting, but he shook himself.

 _No._ He told his mind firmly. _That's what...no. Absolutely not._

 _But you want to, right?_ His mind asked. Roy snorted.

 _You're the horney part of me. Answer your own damn question._

 _So kiss him._ His mind said. _It's what you want._

 _Did you not hear me when I said no?_ Roy fired back, and he could feel his face getting red, though from being suddenly horney, or from anger, he couldn't tell. His mind laughed.

 _Oh I heard you. But when have I_ ever _listened to you, Roy Harper? After all, I'm the reason you fucked Grayson when he was brainwashed, aren't I?_

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose, and he was just about to retort, when his cell phone began to ring, startling both himself, and Dick, who woke instantly, and stared around the room in confusion.

Roy quickly hung up on whoever was calling him at three in the morning, and turned back to Dick, who was staring around him.

"Hey, are you alright?" Roy asked, quickly covering his crotch with the blankets. Dick didn't need to see him down there at the moment. Sure, he had shorts on, but that didn't really hide what was going on. Dick ran a hand through his tangled black hair, before nodding.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Um...why am I in your bed?"

Roy gave a breathy laugh, trying to keep his gaze anywhere but at Dick's crotch. He really hated when his horney side took control.

"You didn't want to be alone," Roy answered, trying to keep his eyes firmly locked on Dick's face, though his gaze wandered downwards ever so often. "So I wasn't going to make you sleep alone."

"Right," Dick answered slowly, and Roy could tell he was uncomfortable. He grabbed Dick's wrist, and the boy flinched.

"Dick, I didn't do anything," he promised. Dick nodded slowly, but before he could do anything, Roy leaned forward, and pressed his lips into Dick's.

 _Yes. Yes!_ Roy's mind screamed. _Now take your pants off!_

Roy ignored his inner voice, and focused on the fact that Dick hadn't pulled away. He hadn't kissed back, but he hadn't pulled away.

 _Take your pants off._ Dick's mind said darkly. _Let him inside of you._

Dick bit his tongue, in an effort to ignore his inner voice, which was really starting to annoy him.

* * *

"Roy?" Dick said softly, from where he was lying on his back, eyes closed.

"Yeah?" Roy answered, looking over. Dick sighed.

"We really need to stop hanging out when you're horney."

Roy chuckled, and looked to the end of the bed, where he and Dick's boxers lay crumpled in a heap.

"If I'm not wrong, Mr. Grayson, you're horney as well."

Dick shrugged, but didn't say anything. After a few seconds, he yawned.

"I guess I need a shower," he said sleepily. "But I don't really feel like getting up."

Roy smirked, and kissed Dick, before he pulled got out of bed, and looked down at Dick's naked form which lay atop the sheets, covered in semen. After a few seconds, Roy shook himself, and left in the direction of the bathroom.

He returned not long later, with a wet washcloth. He was just about to clean Dick off, when the boy grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Hey Roy?" he said softly. Roy frowned.

"Yeah?"

DIck's smirk told Roy what Dick was about to say before he even said it.

"Who said I was done?"

Roy grinned widely, as he crawled on top of Dick, absolutely nothing separating their naked bodies.

* * *

Roy glanced over at his oven, as his phone began to ring. The clock read twelve-thirty. With a sigh, Roy answered his phone, holding it up to his ear.

"Roy Harper."

" _Roy, have you been able to get ahold of Dick?!"_ Bruce's voice was panicked, and Roy figured that the man didn't even know that he'd called Roy by his first name. Roy glanced towards his bedroom door, where Dick had yet to emerge from.

"He's fine, Bruce, I promise. The door to his apartment needs replaced, so he'd staying with me for awhile."

" _Does he not have his phone?"_ Bruce demanded, and Roy looked down, to where Dick's phone sat on the kitchen counter, blinking twenty-five missed messages from Bruce. Roy chuckled.

"Twenty-five messages? Bruce, I'm shocked. Even Oliver wasn't that bad."

Bruce huffed. " _Roy, give the phone to Dick."_

"No can do amigo," Roy said, jumping up on the counter. "Your boy wonder has yet to wake from his slumber."

" _Tell me what you drugged him with,"_ Bruce demanded, and Roy wondered if the man had ignored his rhyme, or hadn't noticed, though the former was most likely.

"Calm down, Bruce, alright? He's fine. I didn't drug him with anything."

"It's twelve-thirty," Bruce pointed out. "Why hasn't he woken up?"

"He had a mental breakdown last night," Roy explained, hoping over the counter to go sit on his couch. "He's tired.

"What did you do to give him a mental breakdown!?" Bruce shouted, and Roy thought he heard a little bit of Batman in there. Roy dropped onto his couch with a sigh, and shot another glance towards his bedroom door.

"How should I know?" he answered. "He went to the bathroom, and I heard him shout something, and when he opened the door, he was hyperventilating, and sobbing."

" _I'm coming over now."_

"No, Bruce you really don't-" Roy sighed when he heard the dial tone. "Shit," he whispered, getting to his feet, and making his way over to his bedroom. "Shit, shit, shit." he forced himself to take a calming breath, before he answered the door. "Hey Dick?" he called softly. Dick shifted slightly from where he was laying on his stomach, before turning his head to the side.

"Yeah?" he asked, and Roy could hear exhaustion in his voice.

"We have a problem," Roy explained, coming around to sit on the bed, running his hand over Dick's smooth back, and tracing letters into the boy's tan skin. "Bruce just called."

"And?" Dick asked, closing his eyes. Roy frowned slightly, when he felt how tight Dick's muscles were.

"He's coming over to check on you," Roy explained, and Dick's eyes flew open.

"Fuck," he whispered, and Roy laughed softly, until Dick shook his head. "This isn't funny Roy. I'm in a lot of pain right now."

"Why?" Roy asked, instantly scared. Dick didn't answer, but Roy knew what he was talking about. "Oh God, Dick, I'm so sorry."

Dick shook his head, and pushed himself up on arms that were violently trembling.

"It's fine," Dick gasped out, and Roy could tell how much pain he was in by the way his muscles were locked.

"Dick, it's not fine," Roy said softly, helping Dick back down to the bed.

"Just help me get dressed, okay?" Dick asked, forcing himself into a seated position, and against the head of the bed. "Bruce will tear you apart if he knows what happened."

Roy nodded, and bolted out of the room to grab Dick some clean clothes. When he returned, Dick frowned at the wet washcloth Roy had in his hand.

"What's that for?" Dick asked, as Roy handed it to him. Roy blushed a violent shade of red, and looked away, as he explained.

"It's for you to...clean yourself...down there."

Dick's face instantly turned blood red, and he cleared his throat, before accepting the washcloth from Roy.

"Thanks," he whispered, and the two were quiet, as Dick essentially gave himself a handjob under the sheets. Once he was done, he swallowed thickly and gestured to the doorway. "Could you maybe leave...just while I get dressed?"

"Oh, yeah!" Roy answered, hopping off the bed. "No, yeah, sorry. Um…" he was sweating and blushing profusely, and just really really wanted to kiss Dick, but he restrained himself. "I'll be outside the door if you need me."

Dick nodded and Roy turned and left the room. Not long later, he heard Dick's soft voice calling his name.

Swallowing thickly, Roy reentered the room, to find Dick, still stark naked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Are you okay?" Roy asked. Dick nodded slowly, and Roy's heart fluttered, when he noticed how Dick's blush spread down to his neck.

"Um...it kind of...hurts too much to put my clothes on," Dick admitted. He kept his gaze away from Roy. "Would you maybe be able to...help?"

Roy closed his eyes, and counted to ten, when he felt the familiar sensation in his pants.

"No, yeah of course," he answered, coming over to crouch in front of Dick. "I'll try not to hurt you, okay?"

Dick nodded, but still didn't look at Roy. "Thanks."

* * *

"Shit," Roy whispered suddenly, as the two sat on his couch, waiting for Bruce to arrive.

"What is it?" Dick asked, trying and failing to hide the pain in his voice. Roy side, and ran his hands over his face.

"I should probably change the sheets on my bed before Bruce shows up."

Dick gave a lethargic shrug, and Roy could tell he was tired.

"Did you fall back to sleep after...last night?"

Dick took a shuddering breath, and tried to relax into the couch, as he shook his head.

"No," he said softly. "No, I didn't. Hey, do you have any Ibuprofen?"

"Um...I might," Roy answered slowly, getting up and moving over to his kitchen. "Or at least something that works the same way. What do you need it for?"

"Headache," Dick answered simply, just as there was a loud knock on the door. The last of the Flying Grayson's groaned loudly, and fell over onto his side across the rest of the couch. Roy chuckled, grabbing a bottle of pain reliever - he didn't check what the brand was, but he'd regret that choice in a few minutes -, placing it on the coffee table in front of Dick, before moving over to the door.

As soon as he pulled it open, both Bruce and Jason pushed past him.

"No, please," Roy drawled sarcastically as he closed the door, and walked over to where Bruce and Jason were drilling Dick. "Do come in."

"Dick, are you okay?" Jason asked, and Dick groaned loudly, dropping his head into his hands.

"I'd be fine if you'd stop yelling. I've got a headache."

"What did Roy give you?" Bruce asked softly, and Dick looked at him quizzically.

"How do you know Roy gave me anything for my headache?" Dick asked, confusion in his voice. Bruce chuckled softly.

"I meant what did he give you to keep you asleep?"

"He didn't give me anything to...Roy?"

"Yeah?" Roy said, ignoring the way Jason was glaring at him. Roy's knee that Jason had broken was throbbing distantly, but Roy ignored it.

Dick groaned again, and Roy could hear him breathing quickly.

"Roy, what did you give me for my headache?"

"I don't know," Roy answered. "Pain reliever. Why?"

"You idiot!" Jason shouted, throwing the pill bottle across the room. "You _fucking_ bastard! Why the hell didn't you check the goddamn label first!?"

"You were at the door!" Roy shouted back, completely forgetting about Dick's headache. Jason narrowed his eyes before he pulled out his gun and began brandishing it in Roy's face.

"My brother is allergic to tylenol, and you gave him _fucking tylenol!"_

Bruce just barely managed to hold Jason back from throwing himself at Roy.

"Jason, you're doing nothing to help Dick," Bruce said, and Roy was terrified at the fact that the Dark Knight could barely hold Jason back. "If you want to help him, take him back to the manor, and get him one of his epi-pens. _Now_ , Jason."

Jason stopped fighting against Bruce, and simply glared at Roy, before finally moving over to his big but shorter brother, and speaking to him softly, before he pulled Dick into his arms, and the two vanished. As soon as they were gone, Bruce slowly turned to face Roy.

"Sit down, Harper," he ordered. "You and I are going to have a talk."

Roy hoped Bruce's talk wasn't going to be anything like Jason's, and if it was, Roy would walk away with more than a few broken bones, or he wouldn't walk away at all.

* * *

 **Well well well. What's going on here?**

 **I realized that one thing that was changed was the phone call Roy got in the middle of the night.**

 **It will be addressed later, but I'll tell you now, that it was Slade, calling to check on Dick.**

 **Anyway, please please please review, and let me know what you think.**

 **And what should the next chapter entail?**

 **Jason and Dick?**

 **Slade and his children?**

 **Or maybe even a snippet of Tony Zucco. I know i haven't brought him in much, but he'll be there. Trust me on that.**

 **ANYWAY PLEASE LET ME KNOW HOW YOU FEEL!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

 **I'm so sorry!**

 **Please don't hate me!**

 **I can explain...maybe.**

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing**

* * *

"How do you keep getting into my house?" Slade demanded when he turned around to find Rose standing in the doorway of the kitchen, watching him in silence.

"Maybe you need better locks," she mused, shrugging. "How are you doing?"

"I'd be doing better if you'd stop breaking into my house," Slade grumbled, shoving past her into the living room. "What do you want, anyway?"

"Bruce Wayne is having one of those charity ball things tonight," Rose informed her father, following close behind him. "It wouldn't be hard for you to sneak in and get your crush alone so you could talk to him."

"If by talk you mean scar him for life, then sure," Slade said, though he had to admit the idea was very tempting. "What am I even supposed to tell him?"

"Tell him you're a good guy now," Rose answered, shrugging. "Tell him about your crush on him. Tell him about Tony Zucco."

Slade narrowed his eyes, instantly suspicious. "What about Zucco?"

Rose sighed, thankful she had gotten her father's attention fully. "Tony Zucco plans to hunt down and kill Richard Grayson. Tonight. At the charity event. If you're there, you can protect him. From what I've heard, Zucco only wants to kill Grayson so he won't try anyone else."

"Where are you getting your information from?" Slade asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Where do you get yours?" Rose fired back. She sighed and raised her hand in surrender when Slade started reaching for his gun he kept in the waistband of his pocket. "Just think about it dad. If you save his life, maybe he'll forgive you or be grateful, I don't know. But if you don't go, he's as good as dead."

With that, Rose turned and left without another look back.

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"Are you sure you want to come tonight?" Bruce asked, walking into Dick's room as the twenty-one year old finished getting dressed.

"It's better than sitting here and doing nothing," Dick answered honestly, running a hand through his hair and trying to suppress a sigh of exhaustion. "Besides, someone needs to keep Jason and Tim from killing each other."

Bruce chuckled softly. "Fair enough, I suppose."

"Did you kill Roy?" Dick asked as the two of them left their room and made their way down towards where Alfred was waiting with the car.

"I don't kill," Bruce said, giving Dick a fake look of frustration.

Dick chuckled quietly. "No, but you can come pretty damn close as I recall. How bad is he? He's still able to breath on his own, right?"

"He's fine, Dick," Bruce said with a sigh. "I don't know why you see him as a friend - to be honest, I never did - but he's fine. You clearly trust him. I wasn't going to take that from you."

"Thanks," Dick said, smiling. His expression dropped and he looked away for a few moment until they were in the limo on the way to the charity event. "Bruce, I was wondering...is it okay if I stay here? Permanently?"

"Of course," Bruce answered after a moment as he had been distracted by Tim and Jason. "Why?"

"Bludhaven is…" Dick shuddered, closing his eyes tightly as he tried to block out the flashbacks. Despite the time that had passed, he still struggled to cope with everything. Sleeping with Roy probably hadn't helped anything either. "It's too close to him."

He didn't elaborate as he knew Bruce would be well aware of who 'him' was. Bruce sighed and wrapped an arm around Dick's shoulders, pulling him close.

"I understand, Dick," he said softly, chuckling quietly. "You don't have to be embarrassed or upset. You have every right to be scared of him."

"I'm not scared of him," Dick mumbed. "I'm terrified."

 _And yet._ His mind betrayed him. _You have some deeper feeling towards him. Don't you?_

 _No._ Dick fired back. _Never._

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"Relax, dad," Rose chastised, slapping Slade's hand away from his tie. "You're fine, you look fine, you'll blend in fine. No one will notice you. I promise."

"Wayne might," Slade grumbled. "Dick most certainly will."

"Well then stay out of his way unless you have to," Rose supplied, practically shoving her dad out of his own apartment. "Have fun."

Before Slade could say anything, she slammed the door in his face. He remained in the hallway for a moment or two before slowly making his way down the stairs to the car.

 _If only I had realized my feeling sooner._ Slade thought as he got in the car. _Maybe we could have avoided this whole mess. Then Dick and I would be on the couch together, talking and...who am I kidding? I've stalked the boy since he made his first appearance as Robin and have been very open and upfront about it towards him._

Shaking his head and wishing for a redo button, Slade cracked his knuckles and slid into his car.

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 **So I'll admit, I've written better chapters.**

 **But I am so sorry guys for not updating sooner! I really really am!**

 **My only excuse is that high school was ending and I just moved into my college dorm on Friday!**

 **I'll try my bestest to update this story more often though.**

 **If you can find it somewhere deep in your hearts, PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you think!**

 **THANKS SO MUCH AND I REALLY AM SORry.. And I'm sorry it's short**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter sixteen**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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"Are you alright, Dick?" Bruce asked quietly. The charity ball had started about three hours before the Wayne family had quickly lost sight of one another.

The only reason Bruce had found his oldest now was because Dick was on the floor in the corner of one of the less populated rooms.

"Not really," Dick admitted softly. His knees were pulled up to his chest and his hands were tucked between his legs and stomach. "I feel kind of sick. My stomach hurts."

Bruce frowned. Even though he wanted nothing more than to sit on the floor and console his son, he didn't want that ending up on the papers. So he settled for leaning against the wall next to his son.

"Do you want me to ask Jason to take you home?" Bruce asked quietly. "I'm not sure if his driving skills would make you feel better or worse."

"Worse, probably," Dick said quietly, eyes almost sliding shut before he forced them open. "God, I feel nauseous and tired and hot. I think I'm getting sick."

Bruce frowned and reached down to place a hand on his son's forehead. He was surprised to find the heat radiating off the boy.

"How long have you been feeling this bad?" Bruce asked quietly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Dick shrugged slowly, tugging lightly at the collar of his white button down shirt. He was sweating and freezing at the same time and felt like he could pass out and throw up any second.

"Didn't want to bother you," Dick mumbled, leaning his head back against the wall and closing his eyes. "'m really tired."

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face before pushing himself off the wall.

"Give me five or ten minutes," he said. "I'll go find Jason, get him to take you home."

"Thanks," Dick said tiredly, relaxing into the wall slightly. "Do I have any water left in my glass?"

Bruce glanced down at the champagne glass next to his oldest son and chuckled quietly.

"Are you drinking water out of a champagne glass?" he asked. Dick hummed in response but didn't open his eyes.

"Maybe," the boy mumbled. "Is there any in there?"

"Yeah, it's full," Bruce answered. "Someone must have come around and filled it for you."

Dick nodded and Bruce remained in place for a few moments before turning and walking off to find Jason. Dick yawned and pried his eyes open long enough to grab his glass. He made to take a drink but his vision swam and he instantly knew something was wrong.

Groaning quietly, Dick set aside the glass and put his head in his hands, taking slow uneven breaths.

"Are you alright?"

He flinched violently, breath freezing in his lungs. He knew the voice of the man next to him and while he knew he needed to move, he was too scared to.

Suddenly Dick couldn't breath. His lungs stopped working and his eyes were wide as he struggled to keep calm. Struggled and failed.

"Richard, wants wrong?"

Slade almost sounded concerned and if Dick could actually get air into his lungs, he might've been well enough to figure out that Slade really _was_ concerned. But his only focus was on the fact that he couldn't breath and the fact that he was so close to throwing up.

Too close.

He fought for his footing - scrambled really - and made to stand before instantly collapsing. Something had obviously been in his water and if Slade hadn't been there - he would never thank the man - Dick was almost certain his head would have connected with the linoleum floor.

"Where?" Slade asked, fighting to keep panic back. "Richard, I need you to talk to me."

"Bathroom," Dick whispered, trying to help as much as he possibly could. "Let go of me."

"I'm helping you," Slade assured as he pulled Dick into the bathroom. Dick wormed his way out of the mercenary's lax grip just in time to heave into the porcelain.

He'd clearly been drugged with something. His body trembled with each dry heave and he tried very hard to forget the mercenary standing behind him.

The man who had...oh god.

Dick went limp against the wall, gasping for air. He was too weak to walk on his own and Slade had locked the bathroom door.

They were alone and Dick was defenseless.

 _He drugged me._ Dick shuddered at the realization. _He drugged me and brought me in here to...what? KIll me? Or...no, god please no. I can't take that again._

"Please," Dick whispered, hating that his voice was shaking. He remained lax against the wall, head bowed and eyes closed as tears leaked from under his dark eyelashes. "Please, don't hurt me."

"I'm not going to hurt you," Slade said quietly, crouching behind Dick and slowly leaning the boy back so that Dick's back was against Slade's broad chest. "Can you open your eyes for me?"

Dick trembled and did as he was told, tears blurring his vision. Slade sighed, wiping the drops off as they began to cascade down the young adults face.

"I think someone poisoned you," Slade said quietly. "I've seen these symptoms before. But you'll be fine. Your brother will-"

"Get the fuck away from my brother, you bastard!"

Dick moaned quietly and closed his eyes, the world tilting on its access as Jason shoved Slade away and caught Dick before the boy could hit the ground.

"Dick, can you hear me?" Jason asked quietly, snapping his fingers in front of Dick's glazed eyes. "Dick, what did he give you?"

"What did you do to him?"

Dick flinched violently, whimpering slightly even though it was only Bruce. He hadn't known the man had come in the room as well.

"I didn't give him anything," Slade said calmly. "But someone did. He's been poisoned, I've seen these symptoms before. If you don't get help, he'll die. It won't be a quick or slow death either-"

"Stop talking before I make you," Jason growled, though he was still bent over Dick's prone form, speaking softly to his older brother and trying to get Dick to focus on him.

"Jay," Dick moaned, eyelids fluttering as his practically numb fingers struggled with his tie. "Too hot."

"Okay, okay," Jason whispered, pulling Dick's hands away so he didn't strangle himself. "It's okay. I've got it."

"If you've seen this before than you have the antidote," Bruce said. Even though Dick couldn't see him - could barely focus on anything aside from the overwhelming heat and Jason whose face was less than a foot away from his - he was glad Bruce was there.

"No, I don't," Slade said. "Because I never thought I'd need it again. It's hard to make as well. Without it, he's got three months of suffering ahead before death. But if you give me a blood sample-"

"We're not giving you anything," Jason snarled, fighting for his composure as he held Dick's hands between his own and tried to keep the squirming boy still.

"If you want your brother to live," Slade said calmly, clear anger in his voice. "Than you need to give me a sample of his blood."

Bruce sighed. Even though he hated the mercenary with a passion, something told him that Slade Wilson - the same man who had kidnapped, brainwashed, and violated his son - was the only man who could help said son.

"We get him home," Bruce said quietly. "Then we give you the blood."

"Bruce, if it's someone _here_ who poisoned him-"

"That someone is long gone," Slade interrupted, ignoring the glare Jason sent without even looking at him. "He got what he wanted. He put your son on his deathbed. Now all this man has to do is wait."

"Oh?" Jason questioned with a scoff, whispering softly to Dick when the boy whined and tossed his head weakly from side to side. "And who might that man be?"

"Tony Zucco," Slade said quietly enough that Dick couldn't hear him. "That man is the reason I'm here. I came to protect Richard."

"Yeah, and you fucked up big time," Jason growled.

Slade gazed down at the love of his life and his overprotective, homicidal brother and sighed quietly.

"I know."

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 **Don't worry guys! That's not all to them being on the bathroom floor. I plan to pick up here later.**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter seventeen? (is it seventeen? I didn't think we'd gotten that far. Cool!)**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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"Jay," Dick whined. He couldn't feel his arms or legs and he felt lightheaded and dizzy. Breathing seemed to have become a challenge as well. "Hot."

"I know, golden boy," Jason whispered, keeping Dick's hands held in one of his own as he removed the older boy's tie and undid the first three button's of Dick's sweatsoaked dress shirt. "But you're going to be okay, alright? I promise."

"Hurts," Dick moaned, feet struggling to find purchase against the linoleum while being unable to feel his legs. "Can't breath."

"Yes you can," Jason coached, hating the fear that was worming it's way into his chest. "You'll be okay, Dickie. I promise."

"Sl-slade," Dick whispered, shuddering violently. "Where-"

"He won't hurt you," Jason promised, well aware that the mercenary was behind him, talking with Bruce about one thing or another. "I promise. Not while I'm around."

Dick only moaned, eyes fluttering as darkness crept along the side of his vision.

"Dick, don't pass out," Jason said quietly as he gently pulled Dick into his arms bridal style. One thing Dick never was was still. And right now, he was far too still, the only noises coming from him were soft moans and whimpers.

"Don't let him lose consciousness," Slade ordered as he led Jason out the back of the building. Bruce had been forced to remain behind due to the charity ball.

"I'm not an idiot, Wilson," Jason snarled. "I'm not letting my brother pass out."

Slade's worry for Dick's condition was the only thing that made him bite his tongue.

"Are we taking him to the manor?"

Sighing quietly and knowing that Slade _had_ to come along, Jason nodded.

"Yeah, but I came on my motorcycle. I can't-"

"We can take my car," Slade said. "If you'd like, you can drive, I'll sit up front, and Richard can have the back."

"As long as I can see you, I'm in control, and you don't fuck my brother, then we're fine," Jason growled, walking towards Slade's car and waiting for the man to unlock it.

"Do you mean as long as I don't fucking _touch_ your brother?" Slade asked as Jason slid Dick into the back of the black car, ordering the twenty-one year old to try and stay awake.

"I meant what I said," Jason said calmly as he took the keys and made his way to the driver's side. "And I'm not getting into the car until you do."

Slade sighed though he knew why Jason was doing it. Nodding, he dropped into the passenger seat of the car and glanced back to ensure Dick was still conscious.

He was. Barely. His eyes were half-open and glazed, lips parted as he brought in shallow, shuddering breaths. His hands trembled as he fought with the buttons of his shirt.

 _Damn it._ Slade cursed, turning back towards the front as Jason turned to Dick and tried to coax the boy to relax. _Damn it. The poison is moving faster than I thought. How much did you give him, Zucco?_

"Before you reach back and try to touch him," Jason said as he put the car in drive and forced himself to obey the traffic laws - more or less. "You should remember-"

"That you have a gun," Slade said, nodding. "I'm well aware, thank you Todd. I _do_ know a thing or two about your family in case you've forgotten."

Jason clenched his jaw and glanced back at Dick in the rearview mirror. The boy was lax in his seatbelt, eyes closed and lips parted. His face was coated in a fine sheen of sweat and yet every few seconds, a shudder would go through his body.

"I know what you're thinking," Slade said quietly as Jason reached for the air conditioner. "And if you turn that on, you'll only be making his condition worse. Give him an hour or two and he'll be freezing with a dangerous fever at the same time. Just wait."

Jason bit his tongue and forced himself to take a slow breath through his nose as he turned his attention back to Dick in the rearview mirror.

"Just keep breathing golden boy," he begged, keeping his voice soft and gentle as Dick's glassy eyes met his in the mirror. "You'll be fine."

"I can't feel my arms or legs," Dick whispered, eyelids fluttering and head lolling towards his chest. He seemed to have become very very difficult for him to remain awake and breathing. "I'm really scared Jay."

"I know you are," Jason said quietly. "And I'm scared too. But we're going to be okay."

Dick seemed like he wanted to nod but he was clearly very quickly losing his fight against consciousness because he blinked rapidly.

"Just stay awake, Richard," Slade added. He saw Dick tense at his voice and a thought came to mind. Turning to Jason, Slade spoke. "If I keep talking to him, he'll know I'm here and he won't lose consciousness. Or-"

"You're not sitting in the back with my brother unless you want a bullet in your brain," Jason snarled.

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"How the fuck did you convince me to let you do that?" Jason demanded, glaring at Slade in the rearview mirror. The mercenary was seated in the back next to Dick who was in the middle seat.

The twenty-one year old now seemed much more alert with the mercenary sitting next to him, though his breathing was a little erratic.

It worried Jason.

"It's called persuasion, Red Hood," Slade said calmly, fighting to keep his outward appearance relaxed. "Something I'm very good at."

"Bastard."

"So I've been told."

Turning his attention to the gasping figure beside him, Slade reached forward and brushed Dick's sweat soaked bangs out of his eyes. Even though it hurt when Dick flinched away, it was a good sign because it meant Dick was mostly aware of his surroundings.

"Don't touch me," Dick whispered hoarsely, through there was no strength or malice in his tone. All that was left was exhaustion and tired fear.

"I needed to see what your level of consciousness was," Slade lied. "My hand is colder than your current body temperature. If you had leaned in to me, that would have told me that you didn't really know who was next to you."

Dick shuddered at the thought and it was all Jason had to not pull the car over and strangle the man beside his brother. After that, the car was mostly silent save for Dick's harsh breaths.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity to Jason, the pulled into the manor driveway. Jason put the car in park then turned to glare at Slade.

"Out of the car, come around this side so I can see you," he ordered. "Then I get Dick."

Slade put his hands up in defense and got out of the car to stand next to Jason as the boy climbed out. Glaring at Slade, Jason opened the back door and gently reached in to pull Dick - who seemed to have lost most of his awareness - out of the car and into his arms bridal style.

"Almost home Dickie," Jason whispered. "Then we'll get you changed into something more comfortable."

Dick hummed in response, dropping his head on Jason's shoulder but managing to keep his eyes open.

"I'm tired, Jay," he whispered. "My head hurts. I feel dizzy. Sick."

"Are you hot?" Jason asked. Dick's forehead was unnaturally warm against Jason's cool neck and so the ex-Robin was surprised when his older brother shook his head.

"Cold."

Jason sighed but decided to change the subject. "How is it that you're twenty-one but I can successfully carry you without a problem? Honestly, golden boy, you really need to gain weight."

"I know," Dick agreed, suppressing a yawn. He relaxed a little more into Jason's arms, his eyes falling so that they rested half open. "Where is he?"

"Alfred or Slade?"

"Which one do you think I'd rather not see?"

"Slade is behind me," Jason answered, shooting a glance over his shoulder. "And he'll remain there. He won't touch you, Dick, I promise."

"Why is he here?"

"I'm going to help you," Slade answered, noting when Dick flinched at his voice. "I am going to save your life."

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 **Good? Bad? Sorry if it's crap, but I have to leave for class in about five minutes and I really really wanted to upload a chapter before then.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you think!**

 **Was it good? Bad? Shit? (Opposite of shit?)**

 **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. I should be able to write another chapter tonight.**

 **I hope.**

 **THANKS AND REVIEW**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter eighteen**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!**

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By the time Jason had gotten Dick back to his room and changed him into a thin t-shirt and sweatpants, the twenty-one year old was sweating and whining once more.

"Jay," he whispered, fighting against the blanket that Jason was trying to put on him. "Stop. Too hot."

"Here," Slade said quietly, handing Jason a glass of water. "It'll help cool him down."

Jason nodded before splashing the water into the mercenary's face. "Thanks, but no thanks. I don't trust you."

Slade put his hands up in defense and backed away, leaving Jason to convince Dick to leave the blanket on.

"We need Alfred," Jason mused quietly. "And the stuff we need is in the batcave."

"I can get it," Slade offered. At the death glare Jason gave him, the mercenary amended his statement. "Or I can stay with Richard."

"If you think that's any better, than you're sorely mistaken," Jason growled, glancing back at Dick when the boy suddenly collapsed to the side.

"Dick!" Jason cried, grabbing his brother and staring at the boy in horror as chills wracked the boy's thin frame despite the fact that he was still sweating severely.

"I need that blood now," Slade said firmly. "Or he'll die."

"Fine!" Jason shouted, exasperated when he noted Dick's breath was once again coming in short, harsh gasps. "Fine! Go get what you need! Just…" Jason swallowed thickly, voice breaking when he spoke again. "Just save him. Please."

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Dick's head hurt and he felt weak and tired. He moaned softly, suddenly becoming aware of something on his face. When he reached up towards it, he found restraints on his wrists.

Panic seized him but before he could overreact, there was a cool cloth on his forehead and Jason's voice filled the room.

"It's okay, Dickie," he whispered. "You're alright, I promise. Can you open your eyes for me?"

Dick shuddered when a violent chill overtook his body. "Jay?" his voice was hoarse and broken and he felt sluggish as he slowly pulled his eyes open.

The world was blurry and it took him a few tries to clear his vision. Beside him, he found Jason, worry in his eyes. They were in Dick's room in the manor and they were the only one's around.

"Hey golden boy," Jason whispered, trying and failing for a smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Dick answered honestly. "What happened?"

"You've been poisoned," Jason answered quietly. "And the cure isn't working. You've been unconscious for about a week. You were struggling to breath on your own after about a day. We thought...Dick I thought you were going to die."

"He still might."

Dick knew he should be scared of Slade's voice but his brain felt like it was filled with cotton as he let his eyes roam over to where the mercenary was sat on the other side of his bed.

"I was trying to be positive," Jason snarled before turning back to Dick. "Dick, can you squeeze my hand please?"

Dick nodded and looked down to watch Jason slide his hand into Dick's. It took a few moments and far too much of Dick's strength and concentration but he finally managed to squeeze Jason's hand.

"Dickie, try a little more, okay?" Jason begged, fighting to keep fear out of his voice. "Please?"

Dick shook his head. "I can't...I can't feel my hands...Jay."

"Is it like a tingling?" Slade asked. Dick swallowed thickly and nodded. His vision was starting to go blurry again and he was suddenly so tired.

"Not good," Slade mused quietly. "It's getting so much worse. At this point...I'm working on field equipment so to speak. I need-" Slade sighed, knowing his next words could result in Jason's fist in his face. "I need to take him back with me to the League of Assassins. They have the proper equipment there."

"I'm not leaving my brother with _you!"_ Jason shouted, getting quickly to his feet and sending his chair flying backwards.

"You didn't let me finish," Slade said calmly, not at all put off by Jason's' anger. "I was going to say you can come with us. But I can find a cure there faster than I can here. Trust me."

"I can come along?" Jason repeated. "I stay in the room with my brother at all times. No matter what. I never leave him with you?"

"I'll never be alone with him," Slade answered, heartbreaking at the words. "You have my word."

Jason sighed and the room was quiet for a long time. Dick wasn't sure what the verdict ended up being because he lost consciousness soon after that.

He didn't regain consciousness for a long time.

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 **I'm sorry this was short, but I'm really tired. That's my only excuse.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **THANKS!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter nineteen**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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Dick's mind and body ached and he was covered in sweat but shivering. He peeled his eyes open slowly and moaned quietly as consciousness did not return kindly.

He heard the soft sound of voices nearby and could feel an oxygen mask over his face. Blinking to try and bring the room into focus, Dick looked towards his left to find Jason and Slade talking quietly.

Everything came crashing into place and he gasped loudly.

Jason was faster and he quickly sat Dick up and removed the oxygen mask as the twenty-one year old began to dry heave. After a few minutes, he collapsed bonelessly against his brother, gasping shallowly.

"Glad you're awake," Jason said quietly, watching Slade move quietly around the room, checking things. "I didn't think you were going to make it."

"What happened?" Dick's words were slurred and his mouth felt dry. He swallowed and opened his mouth to ask again but Slade answered quickly.

"You were poisoned," the mercenary said calmly. "By Tony Zucco. He wants you dead."

Dick frowned, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes. "I thought Zucco had been arrested."

"He got out," Jason said quietly. "And he's after you. How are you feeling?"

"Hot," Dick answered after a moment of thought. "Dizzy."

"It's an effect of the poison," Slade supplied. "I've managed to slow it down but not fully stop it. You'll just keep getting worse if I can't make this antidote."

"You've made it before, haven't you?" Jason spat, glaring over at the man. "Why the hell is it a problem now?"

"Does it matter?" Slade said calmly. Dick's voice was husky with disuse and Slade could feel himself getting hard and so he opted to keep his back to the bat brothers.

"Jay," Dick said quietly, leaning a little heavier into his brother's chest. "Where are we?"

"League of Assassins," Jason supplied unhelpfully. "Don't worry. I've never left you alone with him for a minute."

Dick hummed quietly, before slowly looking over at Slade. "Why did you do it?"

Slade tensed but forced his voice to sound relaxed and careless. "What do you mean? Why did I-"

"Why did you brainwash me?" Dick clarified, shuddering slightly. "Why did you...do what you did to me?"

Slade sucked in a quiet breath. If he was being honest, he didn't truly know anymore. In fact, so much had happened and changed since he had first taken the boy that he couldn't even remember why he had taken Dick in the first place.

"I wanted to control you," he finally answered. "I wanted to break you."

Dick was quiet, before looking away. "Yeah. Well, you did."

"You're not broken by any means," Jason said firmly. "I mean, psychologically traumatized? Probably, but you're not broken."

Dick gave a small smile, eyes falling closed. "Thanks Jay."

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When Dick woke up again, Slade was sitting at a desk not too far away and Jason was asleep with his head on his arm.

"Does Bruce know I'm here?" Dick asked quietly, causing Slade to jump. The mercenary took a moment to breath and pray for his erection to go down before he turned around.

"I believe your brother informed him, yes," Slade said. "You've been here for about two months."

"I've been in a coma for two months?" Dick asked quietly, wincing as he forced himself into a seated position. He was still hot, but was slowly starting to feel numb.

He had a feeling that that wasn't a good sign.

"Roughly, yes," Slade confirmed. "Your brother hasn't left your side."

Dick nodded before getting to the point. "Since Jason's asleep...ever since…"

Dick was clearly struggling for words and though Slade desperately wanted to help, he held his tongue.

 _Help him with what?_ The mercenary questioned himself. He internally shook his head as Dick let out a breathy laugh.

"It's so stupid," he whispered. "But...sometimes I get this feeling that...you said you loved me. Right?"

"I did, yes," Slade answered quietly. "And I still love you."

Dick stared into his lap, keeping his voice low. "Sometimes I think I might...love you too."

Neither of them moved or breathed for a long time until Dick laughed quietly and ran a hand through his tangled hair.

"It's stupid," he said quietly, shaking his head. "It's just the brainwashing."

"You're not brainwashed," Slade pointed out. "Not anymore."

Dick cracked his neck and looked everywhere _but_ at Slade. "No, but I was. From what I know, brainwashing can sometimes linger. At least, the effects can. So maybe I thought I loved you when I was brainwashed. I mean, I know I did. I remember that. So...maybe my body is confused. It still thinks I love you."

Slade nodded and stood, walking carefully over to Dick's left side, being quiet so as to not wake Jason up. Dick looked up at him and for the first time since the brainwashing had broken, there wasn't fear in his cerulean blue eyes. Just mild curiosity.

"There's a way to find out," Slade said quietly, gazing down at the love of his life. "An easy, quick...painless way. To find out."

Dick frowned but before he could say anything, could ask what Slade was talking about, the mercenary's lips were on his.

The kiss started off short and simple, but it sent off an explosion of fireworks in Dick's mind.

 _Oh God._ He thought as he kissed the mercenary back, wrapping his arms around Slade's neck. _I really_ do _love him._

The two quickly broke away when Jason stirred. Dick lay back on his bed and fought to control his breathing while Slade moved back to his desk, fighting down the blush on his cheeks.

"Hey Dickie," Jason whispered, sitting up and yawning. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Dick answered. He frowned internally at how hoarse his voice was. He cleared his throat before going on. "Kind of...numb."

"Physically or mentally?" Slade asked, turning around to look at Dick over Jason's head. Their eyes met for a brief moment before they both looked away.

"Physically," Dick answered. "My head hurts though and I feel like my heart is going too fast."

"Fuck," Slade cursed quietly. "The poison is progressing. Shit, I'd hoped we wouldn't get here so soon. Damn it!"

Without another word, Slade got to his feet and practically sprinted out of the room. Dick took a shuddering breath and looked down at Jason who was still fighting to wake up.

"I want to go home," Dick said quietly. "I'm scared."

"It's okay, golden boy," Jason said quietly, getting to his feet and walking over to the other side of the room to grab his brother a glass of water. "You're going to be okay. I promise. And once we cure you, you'll never see Slade again. I'll ensure it."

Dick nodded, though his mind was still looking back on the kiss.

 _I really do love him._

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 **I'm sorry that that was a kinda crap chapter but I got really excited!**

 **Also, if you have any suggestions as to how Dick could get Jason to leave him and Slade alone for awhile, I'd like to see what you think!**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!1**

 **THANKS!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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Dick's soft moan drew Slade out of his thoughts. He glanced over his shoulder at the unconscious twenty-one year old before letting his gaze fall on Jason who was asleep in his chair next to his brother.

Once he was sure Jason wasn't going to wake any time soon, Slade stood and moved quietly over to Dick's side. The boy was panting lightly and whimpering, tossing his head back and forth.

Noting the beads of sweat on the boy's pale forehead, Slade walked into the bathroom and grabbed a cold, wet washcloth. He quietly pulled up a chair next to Dick and shot one last look towards Jason before carefully wiping off Dick's forehead and trying to cool the boy down.

Dick leaned into the cold touch and sighed quietly before his eyelids fluttered and he woke slowly. He and Slade made eye contact for a brief moment before the both of them looked away. After a few minutes, Slade cleared his throat.

"So," he began, dropping both hands into his lap and ignoring the wet washcloth which had fallen to the floor. "How are you feeling?"

"Numb," Dick answered quietly, flexing his fingers and toes slightly. "I mean...it feels like pins and needles in some places. My hands and feet mostly."

Slade nodded and the room was dropped into silence again until Slade spoke. "I do love you, Richard. I don't remember why I took you and brainwashed you to begin with, but...I fell in love with you."

Dick nodded, slowly looking back over at Slade. "Jason is going to find out. He never leaves the room."

"I know," Slade said calmly, grinning. "But I have an idea. You want revenge on Zucco, don't you?"

"I thought you loved me," Dick stated, trying to ignore the odd feeling in his stomach and groin. "Now you're trying to turn me into your apprentice? _And_ when I'm dying? That's-"

Slade pressed his lips over Dick's to shut the boy up. Almost instantly, Dick wrapped his arms around Slade's neck and Slade wrapped his around Dick's waist.

Only when Dick went boneless and began gasping for air did the two remember the poison. Sighing quietly, Slade helped Dick get comfortable and went back to running the cold washcloth over Dick's chest.

"If you had let me finish," the mercenary began, lips twitching in a simple. "You would have known that I am going to go after Zucco. We can move in together, you just have to tell your family you're living alone."

"Moving a little fast, aren't we?" Dick mumbled softly, eyes half closed.

Slade chuckled softly. "Perhaps. But moving fast would mean I take you here and now."

"Jason won't hesitate to kill you," Dick said with a soft, tired laugh. "And I don't think I'm physically or mentally ready for that."

Slade nodded in agreement, getting to his feet and tossing the washcloth off to the side.

"Which is the exact thing that's keeping me from doing you," he answered, grinning. "You seem to be feeling better."

"I feel like I got run over by an eighteen wheeler then had my head slammed into a concrete wall," Dick supplied drowsily. "Repeatedly. And in my line of work, I know what it feels like. The..head part. Not the eighteen wheeler part."

"You're slurring your words," Slade stated calmly. "The poison is getting worse."

"Then get off your ass and _do_ something about it," Dick said quietly as his eyes started to fall closed. He moaned quietly when Slade brushed his sweat soaked bangs away from his face and placed a kiss on his forehead.

"I am," the mercenary assured in a soft voice as he walked back over to his desk to continue working.

Richard was running out of time. At this rate, the boy would be dead in a little less than two months.

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"You have to be fucking kidding me," Jason growled two days later. He had just received word from Bruce that the man was getting closer to Tony Zucco and he needed Jason's help.

But that meant leaving Dick with Slade.

"Jay, I'll be fine," Dick said tiredly. His face was as white as a sheet and his hospital gown stuck to his chest with sweat. His entire body trembled as he struggled to keep himself in an upright position. His cerulean blue eyes were bloodshot and his lips were chapped and bleeding.

"Fuck no!" Jason shouted, slamming his hand down on the bed, immediately calming slightly when Dick flinched. "Sorry. Just...what the hell makes you think I'm going to leave you with _him?!"_

Dick laughed softly, before placing a hand on his chest and wheezing quietly. With each passing day, it was becoming harder and harder to breath normally and Slade had said that within a month, Dick may be on life support. Or at the very least, a ventilator.

"Jay, this is Slade we're talking about," Dick whispered. His voice was scratchy and hoarse and it hurt to talk any louder. "He likes when his victim's can fight back. I can't. And where's the fun if they're close to death anyway?"

Jason opened and closed his mouth before shooting a death glare over his shoulder towards Slade who was wisely keeping out of the conversation.

"I said no, Richard," Jason said firmly. "That's final. You go back to the mountain or the manor, but I'm not leaving you with him. Not alone. I don't give a shit what you think he'll do, because he's going to...have you forgotten everything he did to you before?"

"Jay," Dick said quietly. "We're wasting time with this petty argument. The sooner you go help Bruce find Zucco, the sooner you can save me. Please."

Jason huffed loudly and began pacing the room. After three minutes, Dick closed his eyes as a wave of exhaustion came over him. Forcing himself to fight against it, Dick pried his eyes open and looked around to find Jason gone and himself lying back.

"You passed out for three days," Slade supplied from his spot next to Dick. "Your brother realized the weight of his decision and the fact that your life was literally in his hands and he left. He did threaten me with a gun if that makes you feel better. We're also in my apartment in Bludhaven."

Dick smiled lightly, but he was too tired to give a verbal response. The two were dropped into uncomfortable silence for a long time until Slade's phone went off.

"Excuse me," he said politely, getting to his feet and leaving the room. Dick took a shuddering breath and winced at the pain it brought forward.

Brushing his hair out of his face, Dick pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes and tried to wake himself up.

It didn't help much.

 _Am I going to start forgetting things?!_ He thought suddenly. _Oh god._

Before he could think much more of that, Slade returned to the room. As soon as he saw the fearful look in Dick's eyes, he was on his knees next to the bed, gazing up at Dick with worry.

"Are you alright?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice calm. Dick swallowed thickly and shook his head.

"What if I start forgetting stuff?" he whispered, turning his gaze towards the blanket over his legs rather than towards Slade.

"Like what?" Slade asked, pulling himself up on the bed next to Dick. The twenty-one year old took a slow breath, wincing at the pain it produced.

"English," Dick said quietly, giving a humorless chuckle. "Bruce can't speak Romanian. I mean...Alfred does, but-"

" _Eu vorbi Română,"_ Slade said quietly. Dick stared up at the mercenary in shock, before chuckling quietly.

"I should have known," he whispered. "It makes sense."

Slade smirked before gently taking Dick's chin in his hand and pressing their lips together in a soft, gentle kiss.

" _Te iubesc,"_ Slade whispered after pulling back. Dick sighed quietly and leaned forward to rest his head on Slade's chest.

" _Sunt speriat,"_ Dick whispered hoarsely. Slade hummed quietly and began running one hand through Dick's tangled, sweaty black locks while rubbing circles in Dick's back with his left hand.

He pressed a kiss to the top of Dick's head. " _Stiu_."

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 **Here be them translations, folks;**

 **Eu vorbi Română** _ **:**_ **I speak Romanian**

 **Te iubesc: I love you**

 **Sunt speriat: I'm scared**

 **Stiu: I know.**

 **Obvs, they're all from google translate so I dunno how accurate they are.**

 **ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE CHAPTER.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **SORRY IF IT WAS TOO SHORT. I'M TRYING TO MAKE THEM LONGER, I PROMISE!**

 **THANKS AND REVIEW!**


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter twenty-one**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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Slade and Dick sat together on the bed for a long time, until Slade gently pushed Dick back into a seated position.

"I should get back to working on that antidote," the man said quietly. Dick nodded, though neither of them moved. After a few minutes, Slade cleared his throat. "I'll need more blood. Let me get you some water first."

Slade did so in silence and not a word was spoken between the two as Dick finished the water and Slade got the blood he needed.

"Your life is in my hands, you know," he said quietly, as if the thought had just occurred to him. "If I fuck this up...you're dead."

Dick shuddered before trying to put a more positive - or at least joking - spin on it.

"Well then," he began, wincing at how bad his voice sounded. "You'd better not fuck it up."

Slade chuckled and kissed Dick on the cheek before leaving the boy to his own devices.

When the mercenary returned at half past eleven PM, Dick was curled in on himself and gasping quietly, lips and fingers tinged a terrifying blue.

Forcing himself to stay calm, Slade quickly stripped them both down to their boxers before sliding into the bed next to Dick and pulling the boy's icy form against his own warm one.

The acrobat relaxed almost immediately, though he was still shivering slightly.

Placing a quick kiss on Dick's forehead, Slade settled back and fell asleep soon after.

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Dick woke up hot and coated in sweat. His lips were dry and chapped and his breath came out in sharp gasps. He could feel Slade sleeping beside him, if only because Dick was curled against the mercenary's side with his head on Slade's chest.

Moaning softly, Dick rolled over onto his back before discovering that it became even harder to breath doing that. Squeezing his eyes shut when the world began to spin, Dick slowly pulled himself into a seated position and gripped his head in his hands.

It was then that his body decided it felt nauseous. Dick shuddered but swung both legs over the side of the bed. He blinked when his vision turned fuzzy at the edges for a second or two. While he knew he shouldn't try and walk to the bathroom alone, he was feeling increasingly worse and had a feeling that Slade was _not_ a light sleeper.

So he forced himself to take a deep breath and stand. He remained on his own two feet long enough to close and lock the bathroom door before collapsing gracelessly in front of the toilet.

After five minutes of nothing, his empty stomach decided it didn't really have to throw up after all. Shaking his head when he felt dizzy, Dick used the sink to pull himself upwards and over to the window which he carefully opened, sighing quietly when the cold night air hit his face.

He sat on the windowsill and closed his eyes, relaxing for the first time since he'd been poisoned.

It lasted all of thirty seconds until a dart landed in his neck.

He lost consciousness soon after that.

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When Dick regained consciousness some time later, he found himself in an abandoned warehouse, hands tied above his head with his feet hanging a few inches above the floor. His head was pounding and the naked bulb above him was not helping matters.

"Hello, Mr. Grayson. It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

Dick tensed at the voice, eyes wide as he tried to find it's owner.

 _No, please._ He begged as the man stepped into the light. _Anyone but him._

"Zucco," he growled, though his voice was hoarse. The man chuckled lightly, holding a cane in one hand as he walked towards Dick.

"It's been awhile, dear boy," the man crooned, walking forward and running a hand down Dick's cheek. "How many years? Over ten, I know that much. Have you missed me?"

"What do you want with me?" Dick demanded, though his voice sounded strained.

"I want you dead," Zucco answered bluntly, grinding when Dick's eyes went wide. The man then gestured around them. "Of course, dying here or by poison is less than right. Wouldn't you agree?"

Dick opened his mouth to respond, but Zucco shoved a rag between his lips and sealed it with duct tape before tightly tying a blindfold around DIck's eyes.

"I think," the man hissed in Dick's ear, grinning when the boy shuddered. "It would be rather...poetic, I think, if you were to die like _them_. Would you agree?"

With that, Zucco left Dick alone as the boy began to panic. He fought against the ropes holding him off the ground, though when he felt blood running down his arms and the sting of broken flesh he forced himself to relax.

 _Oh god, please._ He thought, entire body shivering despite the heat of the warehouse. _Please, someone find me._

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 **I know it was a short story but this is where I really really wanted to end it. Is that bad?**

 **I'm sorry. Trying to make it tense, ya know?**

 **ANYWAY, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **WHAT IS GOOD OR BAD?**

 **DO YOU GET WHAT ZUCCO WAS IMPLYING WHEN HE SAID DICK SHOULD DIE LIKE THEM?**

 **REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW!**

 **THANKS!**


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter twenty-two**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

 **ALSO, IT'S SHORT. SORRY.**

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To say Jason was pissed off was an understatement.

First, he had found out that Slade had taken Dick back to Bludhaven.

Then he found out that Dick had been kidnapped while Slade slept nearby.

The worst part was that Slade hadn't even bothered to tell them until Dick had been missing for a week.

It took all of Bruce and Oliver Queen's strength - as well as some of Superman's - to drag Roy and Jason away from where they were attempting to kill Slade.

"In case you've forgotten," Slade began calmly, brushing nonexistent dirt from his shirt sleeves. "I'm the one making the cure for your brother. If you kill me, he's as good as dead."

"He may as well be dead now anyway!" Jason screamed, face going red. "Because of you!"

"Jason, calm down," Bruce ordered. Although if he was being honest with himself, he wanted nothing more than to pound Slade's face in as well. "Killing or beating someone to death isn't going to solve anything.

"Tell that to the Joker," Jason grumbled, yanking himself out of Bruce's grip. He glared at Slade. "Mark my words that as soon as my brother is safe, I'm going to wring your neck."

"And I'll help," Roy growled as he cracked his knuckles.

Slade sighed quietly. "I look forward to it," he muttered in a carefree voice. "But believe me when I say that I'd rather not see Richard dead so soon."

"Then let's start looking for him," Bruce said, turning and walking away. "Before we're too late."

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Dick's body felt numb and his chin rested on his chest as he gasped out shallow breaths.

Zucco had quickly decided that sensory deprivation was the best way to go, so Dick was tied to a chair - restraints over his ankles, shins, thighs, wrists, waist, stomach, and arms - along with a blindfold, gag, and earplugs.

His entire body was slick with sweat and his felt dizzy and lightheaded. Zucco clearly didn't want him to die quite yet, because he - or someone working for him - showed up every day with what they said was a watered down version of the antidote.

They were killing Dick slowly.

The young acrobat shuddered, through it was mostly in his head rather than his body. He was too weak to even try and escape.

He was dying.

The thought was terrifying to say the least and if Dick hadn't been dangerously dehydrated and on the brink of hypothermia, he might have panicked.

The foul taste of blood filled his mouth and he would dry heave every couple of seconds when he'd swallow and it would go down his throat.

The room he was kept in was icy cold but Dick no longer cared. He couldn't feel his limbs much these days anyway. He had a feeling that his fingers, toes, and lips were blue and he distantly knew he was shivering. But his head always felt so stuffed with cotton that he really couldn't tell anything anyway.

A sudden hand on his shoulder caused Dick to jump slightly and a second later, someone's hand was over his eyes - over the blindfold, really - while they pulled one of the earplugs out.

It was Zucco.

"You're going to be performing your final act soon, Mr. Grayson," he purred. "Are you excited?"

Dick moaned softly, though the feeling stung his chest and throat and he ended up coughing violently. By the time he'd finished, the inside of his mouth was a little more coated in blood and he was wheezing for air through his blood clogged nose.

"You're parents would be very pleased with how far you've gotten," Zucco went on, running his hands through Dick's tangled hair, causing the boy to wince whenever his fingers caught on a knot. "And to think, you'll be joining them soon. Your blood will be mixing with theirs."

Dick's confusion must have shown on his bloody, frozen face, because Zucco chuckled softly.

"You didn't think I was just going to shove you off a roof and be done with it, did you?" he whispered harshly. "Oh no, Mr. Grayson. You're going to be falling from the same place your parents did. When I said you were going to die the way they did, I meant it. I only hope I can make your body land exactly where they did. On the stain, soon to be tainted with the blood of the final Flying Grayson."

Zucco's laughter was insane as he left the room, not even bothering to put the earplug back in Dick's ear. The young boy was frozen with both hypothermia and fear.

 _Oh God._ He thought.. _I'm going to die._

Though he knew - rationally - the thought should have terrified him, he actually felt...almost at peace with the idea of it.

 _If I die._ He thought as consciousness began to wane. _I can see them again. Mamica and Tati. Would...would that really be so bad?_

Dick passed out before he could answer his own question.

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 **I know it's short. I really am sorry. I just...I get an idea but it's only part of an idea but I want to write and upload it right away instead of waiting for more idea.**

 **Yeah.**

 **ANYWAY, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **AND WISH MY ROOMMATE LUCK WITH WHATEVER VIDEO GAME SHE'S PLAYING!**

 **THANKS!**


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter twenty-three**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

 **Sorry in advance for it being short**

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Dick groaned, eyes fluttering open as he was untied from the chair and dragged across the floor, out into the cold air of Gotham where he was tossed into the back of a van.

"Ready, Mr. Grayson?" Zucco asked, glancing back at Dick in the rearview mirror. "Your final flight is about to take off."

Dick moaned quietly. He knew he was unrestrained, but he couldn't fill his arms and legs and his head felt like lead.

This was it. He was going to die.

Dick closed his eyes. It was...odd. He felt...ready. True, he had never wanted to die the way his parents had, but wasn't it better? Dying by the poison was drawn out and painful.

It would hurt and he would suffer.

But death by falling? It was just a few moments of fear and maybe a _second_ of pain before nothing.

Dick tried to swallow the saliva and blood in his mouth, but he seemed to have lost the ability due to the poison. Still, he supposed it didn't much matter.

 _And I'll be blindfolded._ He realized. _I won't even see the ground coming._ They _did. This...is an act of mercy._

Mercy and Tony Zucco were two words that Dick had never thought belonged in a sentence together and maybe it was just his slowly rising fever, but it sounded right.

It felt right.

Just like the idea of death.

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"I know where he is," Slade said suddenly, causing the other occupants of the room to jump.

"Well what are you waiting for?!" Roy and Jason shouted together. "Find him!"

"It's not that simple," Slade said calmly. "I think I know what Zucco is planning, but as soon as we show up, he won't hesitate to kill Richard. Think about it. He'll want an audience, won't he? Dick's parents died with an audience so why shouldn't Dick."

"Sounds like you're stalling," Jason grumbled, falling back into his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "Little fucker."

Roy choked on laughter, but instantly sobered at the glare he received from Bruce, Ollie, Slade, and Jason.

"Explain, Wilson," Bruce said gruffly. "Now. My son's life is on the line."

"Where did Dick's parents died?" Slade began calmly. "Because I have a strong suspicion that that's where Zucco is taking him. We need a plan though. If we go in, guns blazing-" he shot Jason a look before going on. "Dick isn't going to make it. We have to plan this out. Or we lose him for good."

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"This is a shitty plan," Roy growled as he, Jason, and Slade snuck along the rooftops of Gotham towards the bright red and white circus tents that were still erect after twelve years.

"It's all we could come up with in our short amount of time," Slade said calmly. He glanced over his shoulder to ensure Jason was still with them. "Still with us, Red Hood?"

Jason didn't bother to answer, though he was quick to flip Slade off. Chuckling quietly, Slade turned his attention forward again.

"The three of us need to be prepared to catch Richard," he said calmly. "One of us needs to prepare to swing in and grab him as he's falling. One of us needs to climb on the platform and try and get him away from Zucco. Lastly, I will be standing below to catch him if the two of you fail."

"You're intentionally putting Dick's life in your hands," Roy realized, eyes going wide under his mask. "If we miss, you're responsible for whether he lives or dies."

"Exactly," Slade confirmed quietly. He shot a wary glance towards Jason as he said the next words. "Just remember that there's always the Lazarus Pit-"

"Fuck no," Jason snarled. "You go through me first."

Slade shrugged, though he had expected the answer. Placing his finger to his ear, he activated his comm which connected him to Batman and Green Arrow.

"Are the two of you ready?"

"My son's life is on the line, Wilson," Batman growled. "If he dies, we're all holding you responsible."

"I know," Slade said firmly.

 _I won't let him die._ He added to himself. _I love him too much for that._

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 **I'm sorry. I know that was short but I'm getting ready to head to bed.**

 **Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **AND NIGHTCRAWLER509? MY ROOMMATE SAID THANKS. IT WAS A BATMAN GAME OR SOMETHING SIMILAR.**

 **BUT SHE MANAGED TO GET PAST IT!**

 **THANKS FOR READING AND PLEASE REVIEW!**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter twenty-four**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING**

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"Are you sure this is planned out, Zucco?" one of the man's lackeys asked as he carried Dick over his shoulder up to the platform. Zucco, who was already up there waiting, scoffed loudly.

"I have everything planned out," he answered, rolling his eyes. "Trust me. Richard Grayson _will_ die tonight and nothing will stop that from happening."

The lackey still seemed unsure, but he passed Dick's practically lax body over to his boss before climbing back down the ladder. Zucco sighed and readjusted Dick in his arms, brushing the boy's bangs from his forehead.

"Do you know where you are?" Zucco whispered, chuckling quietly when Dick struggled to open his eyes, though the poison had taken most if not all of his strength. "You're going to die soon. Do you have any last words?"

Dick whimpered softly. His entire body was burning and he felt like he was on fire but his hands and feet felt like bricks of eyes. Breathing heavily, Dick forced his voice to work.

Unfortunately, he was blanking on the English word he wanted so he was forced to settle for the Romanian.

" _Merge la Iad_!" he spat. Unfortunately, it was weak and he ended up in a violent coughing fit that brought blood up his throat, staining his lips and teeth red.

"You know what the best part his?" Zucco hissed as he gagged Dick and wrapped a blindfold around the boy's eyes. "Even if someone manages to save you, the poison will kill you in two days."

"Zucco!"

"Show time, baby bird," Zucco whispered, pulling Dick into a seated position and pushing him against the platform pole and getting to his feet to gaze down at the heroes.

"Let him go, Zucco," Batman growled. Zucco chuckled softly, letting his eyes sweep over Green Arrow, Slade Wilson, and Red Arrow who was climbing up the ladder with a very determined look on his face.

"How kind of you all," Zucco crooned, pulling out a gun and shooting it towards Red Arrow. Not close enough to kill, but close enough to startle so that the archer fell back to the ground.

"Let the boy go, Zucco," Slade ordered, voice sounding much darker and lower with his mask. "He's going to die soon enough anyway."

Zucco raised an eyebrow and continued to look around. "You're all here. Save for...Red Hood. Where is he? Your backup plan, perhaps?"

"We have him, sir!" one of the lackey's - who was considered to be the strongman - shouted as he walked in with an unconscious Jason slung over his shoulder.

"Well look at that," Zucco said quietly, watching the chaos below as his men easily outnumbered and restrained Slade, Green Arrow, Batman, and Red Arrow. "I win."

Once the four heroes - and Slade - were tightly restrained, Zucco smirked and walked over to Dick, dragging the boy up and over to the edge of the platform.

"Goodbye, Richard," he whispered before releasing the boy and watching in satisfaction as he dropped.

Dick could hear people screaming his name. Could feel himself hurtling through the air and knew without being able to see that he was approaching the ground at a terrifying velocity.

 _I love you, Bruce, Jason, Tim-_ he knew he didn't have much time left. _Roy and...Slade. Mamica and Tati...I'll see you soon._

He hit the ground.

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Jason regained consciousness just in time to watch Dick hurtle to the ground. He screamed himself hoarse, fighting against the restraints as well as he could.

There were two things horrifying him the most. The first being that Dick was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. What kind of shit brother was he to just sit back and watch his brother fall to his death?

The second thing that terrified him was the lack of fear on Dick's face. True, it could just be the poison that was preventing his brother from showing emotion, but for the briefest of moments, Jason could have sworn he saw Dick smile.

Then the last of the Flying Grayson's hit the ground with a sickening crack.

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Roy could only watch in frozen horror as Dick fell through the air. The boy seemed unconscious and Roy found himself thankful for that.

 _He won't feel the fall._ The archer realized, tears pricking the back of his eyes. _He won't even know he died._

Roy felt stupid and cowardly when he forced himself to look away from his younger brother as the boy got closer to the ground below.

He still heard the sickening crunch of bone against bone.

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Bruce growled, fighting in restrains in a desperate but futile attempt to save his son. He knew it was hopeless and for the first time in his career as Batman, Bruce wished he had killed Tony Zucco when he had the chance.

 _Dick._ he thought to himself as the boy hit the ground. _I'm so sorry._

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Slade had felt murderous before and so what he was feeling at that moment came nowhere _near_ murderous.

As he watched the love of his life hurtle to the ground - head first - while he was helpless to do anything, Slade swore that he would hunt Anthony Zucco down and make the man suffer. And he would ensure that the man's pain was drawn out.

Slade shouted Dick's name as the boy hit the ground and for the next few seconds, all Slade could hear was the sound of crunching bone.

 _He's dead._ The mercenary realized. _Dick Grayson is dead. And...it's my fault._

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Zucco waited an hour before having someone release them. As soon as he was free, Bruce sprinted over and gathered his son's broken, bloody form into his arms. With shaking hands, Bruce removed his cowl before untying the gag and blindfold from Dick. The boy's eyes were open and Bruce choked on his breath when he realized that the boy had _known._

He had known he was going to die. He had known the ground was coming to him.

"Dick," he whispered, brushing Dick's bangs away from his face and gently closing the boy's eyes. "I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. If I had stopped Slade from taking you, none of this would have happened."

Bruce closed his eyes and dropped his forehead to Dick's. He could hear Roy, Jason, and Slade walk up behind him but all he cared about was the corpse in his arms.

"Mr. Wayne," Slade said quietly. "We can bring him back-"

"No," Bruce growled instantly. He carefully pulled Dick's body into his arms bridal style but refused to turn around. "We don't bring him back. He's dead, Wilson. That's it."

"If you bring him back," Jason said quietly. "Dick won't be able to cope. He'll kill himself or at least try. Let me tell you from experience, coming back from the dead? It's not a life. It's a living hell. He's better off dead."

Bruce nodded and the five of them stood there quietly for a long time.

"We'll have to tell Tim," Roy said quietly. "And the others."

"Not yet," Bruce said quietly as he turned and began to leave. "Not yet."

As soon as everyone had filed out, Jason turned to Slade.

"You're going to bring him back anyway, aren't you?" the boy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Slade scoffed. "Of course not. It's a waste of my time."

Jason analyzed the man beside him before shaking his head. "Good. Let him stay dead, Wilson. At least grant him that."

Slade nodded and watched Jason walk off. As soon as the man was out of sight, Slade took a slow, shuddering breath.

"I never got to say goodbye."

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 **Well? Good? Bad?**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!**

 **THANKS!**

 **Also, do you want me to bring Dick back to life? Or should I leave him dead?**

 **REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW!**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter twenty-five**

 **DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHing.**

 **Author's note: this is where you'll discover if I plan to bring Dick back or not!**

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Slade stretched his arms over his head and padded out of the bedroom and across the living room over to the kitchen to make himself some coffee.

Three months earlier had been Dick's funeral. Slade hadn't attended - more like he wasn't invited - but he had a feeling it was over the top considering the amount of money Bruce Wayne had at his disposal.

Slade was so lost in thought that he didn't even hear the footsteps until arms were thrown over his shoulders and legs wrapped around his waist.

"Good morning to you too, Richard," he mumbled, chuckling when the twenty-one year old buried his face in Slade's neck.

"My entire body aches," Dick grumbled as he released Slade from his hold and came around to sit on the other side of the table from the mercenary.

"Yes, well, you did break every bone in your body before coming back to life," Slade pointed out. "Not to mention the poison that had been running through your veins."

Dick gave a short nod, covering his yawn with his hand. "So how was my funeral?"

Slade cocked an eyebrow. "It was three months ago, Richard. How many more times are you going to ask?"

"As many as I like," Dick answered, smirking. "If you want me to stop-"

Dick was cut off by Slade leaning across the table and pressing their lips together in a short but sweet kiss.

"Are you ever planning to tell your family?" Slade asked as he got to his feet to make Dick a cup of coffee as well. The twenty-one year old pouted before straightening up and shrugging.

"I don't know," he answered quietly. "I mean...maybe. I want to but at the same time, they'll immediately target you, thinking you brought me back to life."

"I did bring you back to life," Slade pointed out, leaning against the counter and gazing at his lover.

Dick scoffed. "Yeah, but they'll assume by the Lazarus Pit. They'll also assume that we didn't talk about it beforehand and that I wasn't consenting."

"Then mention it was your idea," Slade said with a shrug. "And don't think I missed the smile on your face when you fell."

Dick laughed. The first real and true laugh since he had been brought back to life three months earlier.

"I was petrified," he admitted, grinning. "But I smiled because I knew I was going to be coming back."

"You felt the fall," Slade said calmly. "How are you still sane?"

"I'm not," Dick answered, sobering instantly. "I wake up every night either from a nightmare about my parents or about my own death. Every. Single. Night."

"Then why don't you wake me up?"

Dick shrugged. "I don't need to. I can feel you in bed, because damn, you put off a _lot_ of heat, and I can hear you breathing. I calms me down."

Slade gave a short nod. "Good. That's good...you trust me then?"

"You _did_ rape me," Dick reminded him. "And you've kinda been after me since I was little. But...in some twisted way, I suppose I do trust you."

Slade smiled and walked over to place a kiss on Dick's temple. "Good. Now, I have to work tonight."

"And by work-"

"Richard…"

Dick chuckled, getting up to jump on Slade's back, forcing the mercenary to carry him around the kitchen.

"I know, I know. I'm teasing you. Hey, is three months too short to wait to tell my family I'm alive?"

Slade shrugged. "It's your choice, really."

Dick nodded. "I have an idea of how...I want it to be kind of...dramatic but at the same time I want them to listen to me afterword so I can explain."

"Good luck then," Slade said with a short nod. "And do me a favor, please."

"Anything," Dick purred, placing a kiss on Slade's cheek before resting his head on the mercenary's shoulder. Slade sighed quietly as he carried Dick back to the bedroom.

"Don't get hurt," he said quietly after Dick had slid off his back. "Now, are you going to take a shower this morning?"

Dick grinned, taking Slade's hand in his own. "Why not take one together? Save water?"

Slade growled low in his throat. "Because we both know that would waste more water than it would save it."

Dick pouted. "True. But it would be more fun!"

Slade sighed as he stripped off his shirt, pants, and boxers and followed Dick into the bathroom.

"I swear, Richard, you're going to be the death of me."

"I'll be the death of both of us," Dick whispered, turning around and wrapping his arms around Slade's neck to press their lips together. When they pulled back for air, Dick grinned brightly. "I promise you that I will be the death of both of us."

"If we're taking a shower together, I hope you're ready for morning sex," Slade grumbled as the two of them stepped into the shower. "Because you're turning me on right now."

"No I'm not," Dick said calmly. "I'm turning the shower on."

"You little son of a bitch," Slade muttered though there was a smile to his words.

"Always," Dick said, grinning. "So are you going to kiss me or not?"

Slade sighed but walked forward to take Dick's face between his hands and pressed their lips together in a gentle kiss.

"We're going to run out of warm water," he mumbled when they broke apart for air. Dick grinned brightly.

"Then you'd better work hard if you want that morning sex. I've heard that cold water can be a real turn off."

It took Slade a brief moment to realize what Dick said before he was pressing their lips together once more. Dick melted into the kiss and threw his arms around Slade's neck when his legs threatened to buckle beneath him.

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 **I just love leaving you guys at awful parts.**

 **No worries. Next chapter will pick up here!**

 **I hope you enjoyed!**

 **PLEASE REVIEW and let me know what you think!**

 **THANKS!**


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